In Either Head 47bc Poem by Terry Collett

Annona's friend Aquila
was here,
an endless talker,
gossip brewer,

eyeing me darkly;
she knew I was
Annona's slave girl Amy,
looked at me

as if I were hers
to order and chide.
I stood and looked
at Annona,

took in her beauty,
the hair I brushed
and prepared,
the clothes I chose

and dressed her in.
She looked at me
and smiled,
(Aquila didn't see)

asked me for this
and that
in friendly manner.
Now Aquila has gone,

Annona has gone
to lie down to rest.
I clear away the things,
make tidy things untidy,

wash up items
needing washing.
I think of Annona
and me last night

in her bed,
how we made love,
kissed and held,
touched and whispered

words and promises,
held and kissed,
made love again,
pushed all thoughts

of her husband Marcus's
return from war
on Caesar's behalf,
talked of where to touch,

how and when,
and outside
the moon shone bright,
and far off

voices of others
preparing for bed,
unaware of us
and love,

with no thought
of Marcus
in either head.