It was Anna
By Ayelet Wenger
It was Anna, in the end.
I sailed beyond the edges of verse
for a man
pious as a pyre
The Man Killed
The Man Who Killed Him
The Man Who Killed Me
(they killed me)
The Arms of a Man they will sing
(it was Anna’s arms holding me in the end)
Men who came under my walls like a horse
burst in the night
who made me your Helen
‘It wasn’t meant to be.’
What fate gave.
what she took.
be my shadow
don’t leave me here alone
blissful, too blissful, if he had not come.
Your arms were not made for this.
I could have gone to the stars.
I could have raged hexameters in their pages
And schoolchildren would recite my dying words
To the tune of pencil sharpeners
If he had not come.
We will die unavenged
We will die
The Return of Ulysses
Chalk and watercolour on paper
Frame dimensions: 472 x 623 x 28 mm