Title:  Do Not Look at Me with My T’hy’la’s Eyes

Author:  Shoshana

Description:  Quaintly old fashioned lyric poem in Archaic Standard style

Summary:  A despairing SpockPrime laments to AOSMcCoy about the

           long ago demise of his beloved TOSMcCoy.           

Rating: PG for reference to intended suicide and for highly

           metaphorical allusion to m/m sexual activity

Disclaimer:  I do not own Star Trek.  Not a molecule, atom, quark or

          vibrating string of it.

Note:  Dedicated to Nikita, whose story “Once More” was my inspiration

DO NOT LOOK AT ME WITH MY T’HY’LA’S EYES

Do not look at me with my t’hy’la’s eyes

     Of vibrant Terran blue.  Humane and wise,

My Leonard saw the whole of me, my mind

     And soul and body.  When Leonard’s eyes shined

Our solitudes dawned to conjoined delight;

     Contented union now quenched in deathly night.

Do not smile at me with his sunlit grin,

     Nor glower, scowling, with well-remembered grim

Mien.  Leonard’s face was an ever-changing book –     

     His set of jaw, the sweep of brow, each look

I studied, to calculate his mood.  But those

     Pages, too swiftly read, have sadly closed.

 Do not speak to me with my bondmate’s voice

     Silenced these twenty years.   Should I rejoice

To hear from a stranger’s tongue his tones which mocked

     And challenged, prying my stubborn heart unlocked

To love’s illogical magic?  Every word

     You speak, however mild, is a wound conferred.   

Do not afflict my mind with your thoughts, vague

     Intrusive echoes of vanished bond; they plague             

And pain my heart.  Never were you fond host

     To my katra, nor my cherished mate.  His ghost,  

Beloved, I would welcome; not you, unknown

     And youthful man of blood and flesh and bone.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Do not touch me with your hands, trained to heal:   

     Their touch would but destroy.  Falsely to feel

My lover’s hands igniting private flame

     Of wild Vulcan fire only he could tame

Would leave me scorched and bitter ash, consumed

     By love’s illusion, untimely union doomed.

Do not attempt to enter my life, be part

     Of my desolation.  I beg you:  depart,

Allow me taste my grief.  Whoever you are,

     Strange and familiar man, this last pon farr

I bear alone.  My Leonard is gone, and I

     Soon shall leave New Vulcan, prepared to die.

S.