Galatea: Ode to Pygmalian

By Lady Jira

My hands caress you lovingly
Though you are cold and hard to me.

Every curve shaped perfectly
Every dip, deep mystery

I drink you deeply into me
Loving you passionately

Love inspired epiphany
Fruit of creativity

Though your heart beats not for me
No warm smile, your eyes don’t see

On my knees, I cry vainly
Needing reciprocity

What ho the gods did hear my plea
The stone, once cold, now glows warmly

Your gentle hand reaches for me
Your breath bestirs my hair lightly

I, at your feet, unknowingly
Sleeping, restless, fitfully

Your arms enfold me tenderly
Alive and mine eternally…

My Galatea

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