5. Mars

Hotel bedsheets
as rough / as cold as the
hardest face of Mars.

Not the planet but the god of War.

Stained in his phantom blood,
his ardency swells / his fire red voice,
golden hair coiled in smoky sin.
His large / godlike hands / feel
for her.

Sexcries from the balcony,
firepassion remembered.

He fought for his name / his honour.
He would not be named Thor.

Taken like the Trojans took Helen,
but away from Viking shores.

She had forgotten Asgard /
found the touch of another heaven.

The End

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