Sapho Sappho  By Guillaume Baviere from Uppsala, Sweden – 2014-12-22, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=73289397

She sang about the love of him, of her.

She had his hair in mind–and hers.  His arm,

Its warmth, its skin, its flesh became a purr

Of leopard.  She surmised that it would harm

Her, yet she felt the weight of passion in

Its clasp not quite as harshly as a deer

Feels fangs of lionesses.  The sin

He folded round her shone as final, clear

As diamonds on the the crown of Christ above,

Upon his throne.  But then she also knew

The thrill of maidens and not just the love

Of Phaon.  She knew that loves are harshly true.

  Her songs go through the soul of wings of men,

    Of women.  Feathers spread a pained amen.

~ Phillip Whidden