The breeze sweeps over Dido’s throne
From where her broken heart was finally split,
But now I am made whole by
The salt air, ghostly wings soaring through
The turbulent skies.
Below, glimmering and simmering, Thales’ element
Rises up to me and falls with a crash,
unable to reach Dido’s throne.
Her cries of grief echo in the endlessness
Of ocean, but I am not affected.
Above, another infinte stretches out before me,
One so vast as to contain a multitude of
Suns, fires encased in cosmic bowls.
Each light rejuvinates me, stood atop
The cliffs, arms stretched wide, as Dido
Once stood watching a distant ship disappearing
Beyond the world’s border.
Her throne now empty,
A silent clifftop
Without its queen.