ENVIRONMENT Poem: Aphrodite of Mílos, by Vinit Kurup

She stands with great panache, drawing the gaze
of a thousand mirrors
She probably misses caressing empyrean sunsets;
her arms, left behind in the Aegean.
I wonder how her fingers curl with the spume of the tide;
Salt caked nails mistaken for marble, and arms veined of gilded sapphire;
Her embrace, an ataraxia of emerald, turquoise, and lapis;
A métempsycose of the tide; amaranthine and azure.
Her arms, lost to us, must have been blue. So blue.

Author: poetryfest

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