when I read the myths
you were there
a voice behind the curtain of the unnamed

sometimes you were my Ariadne
and other times Demeter
I broke and was reborn in Persephone

they gave me many names
yet never truly saw me
closed syllables
are like metaphors born in pain

in the cry of endless words
one whisper touched me

you are ready
you will know yourself whole
you will look into the cold mirror
and not close your eyes
seeing the twisted lines

the pain of rejection, deep in the bones
is like the tide of a cold ocean
that’s why I write my thoughts in words
to draw from the solar plexus
the memory of tear drops
left in the mountains of Caucasus
when I met him

so you were and are the gate
like every soul
that descends to this earth

you are the meeting
with the Erinyes I once silenced
I cut off Medusa’s thoughts
just not to become
the one who turns to stone
the canvas woven by life

looking in the mirror
I did not turn away from you
to give strength to those
who lost faith in the power of symbol
in the power of your myth