I Dreamed I Was Venus de Milo

Julia Thacker

A scatter of crows came to me
and I could not refuse them. Lighting
on my shoulders. Shit pearled on marble. 
Sea-goddess Amphitrite. They spoke my true name.

Again in the seaside bungalow I wake
to the note you left Playing Chess, X.
Code for shooting up behind Spiritus.
Typing visions all night. At Blessing of the Fleet
you wrapped yourself in the flag of Portugal.
You would be 60 now.

I'm sick of In Memory, fluted urns, kabuki-white bikes on the path
to the post office. You promised to haunt me 
and you do. Some nights you're a no-show and I am left
today-everlasting, gift baskets of pear and Asiago. 

Remember that night at the Surf Club. Since then
I've changed, but my eyes are blue-green still.