Happy birthday, rushthatspeaks, my best cousin, my blue-haired love. We live in a world where people make photoshoots of the death of Hyakinthos in Apollo's arms.
OK, it's transcribed but I'm having a devil of a time figuring out where I originally meant the line breaks to go, as the only copy I had was written in a squarish one-off chapbook over some cliche-verre illustrations.
Also, either there's a bit where Hyacinthus breaks off and addresses the audience directly in prose, or my scansion and rhymes in that passage really suck.
Also, either there's a bit where Hyacinthus breaks off and addresses the audience directly in prose, or my scansion and rhymes in that passage really suck.
no subject
Also, either there's a bit where Hyacinthus breaks off and addresses the audience directly in prose, or my scansion and rhymes in that passage really suck.
no subject
I'm willing to believe it was prose.