Like Clytie longing for Apollo,
I would follow you—
in heart, in mind—
like the sunflower chasing its sun.
Like Psyche loving Cupid,
I would love you without question,
crossing the river Styx just to reach you.
Perhaps Heracles’ love was blind—
but for you, beloved,
I would ruin myself without regret.
You, the Helen to my Menelaus—
I would wage a thousand wars for you,
even if the Gods turned their faces away.
Like Tlingi waiting for her Ngama,
for you, my moonflower,
I would sink into delusion
and wait, and wait,
until death gently calls my name.
For you, my love—
just for you.
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