Venus
glows white
in an evening sky,
radiates acrylic orange
twilight and illuminates the night.

She hides from morning as galaxies collide,
but Venus again is consumed by the tides.
A whore, she uncoils and succumbs undivine.

"Shine to Elysium and escape!" she cries.
The fractured necks of swans extend,
still her river twists and winds.

Born impure on a
bacchanal moon,
she serves for
other's crimes.
Venus screams
to a tired
dawn,

but
no
one
hears.