As with all his lovers Zeus had only
Eyes for him. Somehow the pouring water
Did it for him: nothing lovelier, over
His comely chest, covering smooth shoulders
With a glimmer, stardust in motion:
A sound of peace. And so the god,
So full of mortal fire, sought to smother
That flame within him. So as Ganymede
Wet his brow, stretched like an ornament
And resembled his own amphora, he just
Allowed divinity to overflow him,
Shadowing his tensions, gracing his skin
With profanity divine. Did Ganymede
Struggle, roll his haunches, arch his back;
Make like a victim? And did Zeus adore him more?
We know that Ganymede was one of many, though
The only chosen, then: we only know
That as he overpowered the boy this god
Still begged, still pleaded him to hold tight
His cup, tend to his wines, his earthly
Thirsts, to reflect in stars what once
He lit on waters; and that the young boy acquiesced.
I mean, what Zeus did was not ok.