, , ,

She hears a sound behind her

and it is a portal into another world

door to the future has a blue border

and the tongue of the past becomes unfurled.

A man without a face is at the other end


the claws on his feet have been re-curled

and he squawks that time should not bend

and at the break of dawn he flies away,

the speed he flies she can’t defend

he yells for troy to turn to grey

as the spear of achilles begins to blur,

her Hellenic face is called the day.