Demeter

I told her I would eat a thousand nightshades to keep from waking,
that I would take nettles, fresh and stinging,
and chew until they broke to liquid.
I said I would kiss her eggplant ring.
But she sang her morning song and released the window’s shade.
She said she would take the sleep from my eyes
and there would be no winter-spring,
no delay, only early arrival,
and I shuddered.