Applause

Applause

The fist night I made love to an audience
I walked back to my lodgings through the sleeping Athenian streets
and cold stiletto footsteps clapped me
all the way home.

Above the Acropolis
the moon icily applauded,
dropping chill white flowers
where my feet would fall.

Since my victory
I have bought your red silk concupiscence
as easily as a late night souvlaki.

If you dare, walk the streets by my side.
Applause is a whore’s embrace,
but it grips me tighter than anything your thin arms could offer.

In the streets of the Plaka
the crushed magnolia lie like dead snakes on the morning flagstones.
I am envenomed now,
for these blossoms have bruised my heel.

© Mike Absalom