Number 4

Never mind liberty or death
Give me your gaze, sweet thing
You are one among twelve,
But you and I may as well be alone in the world
Oh, that we were alone…



Over the last few days
Your attention has flagged
And you sagged like the others,
Eleven faceless shadows
Crossing and re-crossing their legs
and daydreaming of life outside this room
this horrible, decadent, heavy room



But now when I sit before you
you sit up a little straighter,
Glasses on,
Full lips pursed in consideration


If you set me free to love you
I swear by all I know
That I will show you a glory of
physical expression
pain and pleasure wedded
in exquisite savagery
I will worship at the altar of your body
And you will howl your gratitude to the stars


Oh, Juror Number 4!
Are you an angel of mercy
Your auburn hair a burnished shield
Soft bronze of Eleus forged?
Or are you an angel of death
Flint-eyed, clutching Thanatos
sent in womanly form?


So give me liberty, or give me death
That you thought of me at all
Is all I could have ever asked