The Broken Venus

I talked to the fallen sculpture of Venus

in the Old Museum Of All Forgotten Things.

I got there 'cause my ball escaped from me,

escaped from me, running to that place.

I've never talked to Venus before.

Neither did I in that decadent state.

Still her eyes sparkling, still

one leg and one arm left.

She didn't want me there, she said

bad luck could be sticking around,

glimpsing, conspicuously staring

looking for someone, ideally a little girl

to hang aroung for a complete fortnight

for keeps. A fortnight for keeps.

I'm not scared, I replied politely. Still,

my eyes trembled as when I first saw

a man and a woman kissing. They trembled.

There were birds standing at her forehead,

and she looked delighted. She looked pleased.

My child, once a woman falls in love with a man

there is no way back. No way back to

ancient misfortunes. It is written all throughout

the milky way. No kidding.

So, beware wrong signs, beware

desire. Seek purity, wait for purity.

Be patient. Dream of your own world meanwhile.

Be patient. I can be broken but I still

still've got my heart pounding in my heart.

Keep yours close to mine and nothing

will harm you. Nothing will harm you.

She gave me one of her marble fingers

as a promise, as a proof of her eternal

guardianship. I believed in her as I firmly

did in God and left my heart in her bosom.

I grew up. Nothing caused me any pain.

But I couldn't fall in love ever since.

I didn't fall in love ever since.//