Orion

Here's the newest poem I have going, in honor of my favorite constellation. Let me know if the repetition gets distracting (especially the "you"s). I find repetition irresistible and sometimes need help recognizing when it's ineffective. Also, some of the lines are a little too long for this format - there are 4 lines per stanza.

Orion

Who were you that the virgin loved? Who taught her to abandon
the night-chilled grass and dew between her toes? You were warm
and she learned the taste of sweat. The salt that lingered on the tip of her tongue
was no immortal taste. You always hunted in the sun.

Her brother disapproved, as brothers always do. I think it was his jealousy
he saw when you rose from the sea. That’s what he dared her
to shoot. When she found you washed up on the shore, your body
had stiffened and your hands were frozen into fists.

For pity you were jeweled into the sky, to burn cold and white.
She was given a belt she could never unbuckle,
an outline of you she could barely see, and never touch.
She began to love the moon for its closeness to you.

The sisters thought they could escape your hunt if
they turned to doves or stars. But you and they
are frozen mid-chase, and she is forever forced to watch you.
She barely recognizes you; she never saw you hold still.

The dawn (another lover) erases you, wraps you
in light that, like a smallpox sprinkled blanket,
was never intended to warm you. She does not want anyone
to see you like this, cold and empty.

Who were you? A man, just a man. Taller than most, with broader
shoulders. Your warm breath and whiskers scratched
the nape of her neck. You are no longer anything
but a sketch of a man, etched for pity into the sky.