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vulcan and venus

She
did not suspect
(Did not look at me as much as through me
seeing my fingerprints perpetually traced with grime
dead leg always following me like a whipped pup)
I needle my brain with those thoughts
(those nights those children of ours
her eyes fluttered closed
no light no thought? Was she never there?)
My thoughts were never far from her
Day after day iron striking iron red to black
Crafting (both of us)

I was bound to find out but

But
I took a day to think it over
Let the fires die down inside
Laid aside my tools and sat out in the sunlight
(i am a man of action usually i knew he was there
with her but i couldnt go to her)

Did she know those heavy hands
(that perhaps
rubbed her tender flesh too coarsely at times)
Were good for many things?

Gold, heated, becomes ductile (in my mythology)
Stretched thin and cooled in strands
twisted
woven
(i know 2 silver fishes to catch in my net)