Saturnalian
A poem about love, rumors + politics
i think it could have been different
if we were somewhere else,
away from the madness and the rush
away from the swaddling blanket,
the burial shroud, the vestments
that surround a city that has seen
too much for too long.
eating her heart out, kept satiated
by the oscillations of young lovers
meeting in dark rooms bearing
souls where no one can see them
the rumors fly regardless of how
careful you are or how clandestine
your convocation could be
a sub rosa sponsalia, a surreptitious
seduction, set on stygian back stairs
and in even darker guest rooms.
off the record oaths whispered
between bare-faced osculations1
and open hearted consultation
that end in making eyes at each other
across the marmoreal tile floor
let them say what they will
there is no way to get around it
scandals are sung like a bird
soaring on gossamer wings,
quick to fly, quick to fall
dallying looks are more than enough
to thrive on, for now.
this poem is about mark antony, fun fact!