Feigned innocence
Chaotic purity
Ruby trickling down her sacred lips
And he shivered
Breathing
Swollen and raw
Dark marks on impure skin
Golden blood running from ancient veins
Immortality
Silence
Then screaming
Echoes
And fading
Until secrets are unwoven
Like cloth unraveled on crooked forms
Throats pumping
Vulnerability
Danger
Love
Obsession
Ruby trickling
Ichor strings
Sharp teeth
Sharper hearts
Glass shards
Wholly heaving
Shudders
Pupils staring
Starlight
Dizziness
Thrilling
She bit
He cowered
The king
And his queen
She was the one who ruled

I live my life on an island,
and my world is small.
I stand for hours on my shore,
waiting for the plates of the earth
to shift beneath me;
to carry me across the oceans
to continents that I will never reach
on my own.

you drink from your tall glasses, a toast to lives you barely touched.

we do not care for the river of words that rush from your mouth.

we have no use for eulogies underground.

only what you sow you can reap, your nothingness begets nothingness.

we who lay among the roots

do not see the cyanotype sky behind your rouged liquors.

we look below for asphodels to sate a hunger that has no pulse or palate.

Lethe consumes our memories from seeping water.

we talk to shadows without light. we do not bear the stains of summer.

there is no loss when there's nothing to keep.

we who lay among roots

know who we are when separated from you.

your draughts of grenadine are no more than a euphemism

for how we breathe the crimson seeds that keep us under.

When happiness felt like a cool breeze of air on a hot July day
I could nearly swear that I saw the tree branches swinging at a melody imperceptible to anyone else,
In a foreign language , I understood what it said
“ Tilt your head back and let the current embrace you”
              
Whispering
“ Take it in your arms”.

When happiness irradiated from me
I felt intoxicated of all passions humanly possible
As if the love of Aglaea and Hephaestus had once again been revived

Is it possible?
Is it possible?
Is it possible for Ecleia to be reborn anew?

In a joyful conspiracy, the skies murmured
“Tell me what you see,”
“Tell me who you are”

Among the plants of glory, a water drop showed me that
when happiness arose at an unexpected time,
on a hot July day
Happiness had the same familiar features of a once dispirited being
Happiness was easeful and disturbingly calm

Happiness looked like me
Happy was I.

Brittle and Bound,
The pain never dies,
Reiterate, reborn,
A sight for old eyes.

A cliff, an edge,
When will it all end?
Halving halves,
The pain never lends.

I love you like Zeus loves his cow-eyed wife
As Cronos, scared and jealous, loved his young
Like Agamemnon cherished afterlife
And Creon prized his niece’s nimble tongue

My love is like an ocean full of sharks
Where mortals fly too high upon wax wings
My love is Oedipus kept in the dark
The Minotaur to Theseus’ string

I see you with Tiresias’ eyes
A play with no deus ex machina
Hephaestus’ lust to wise Athena’s thigh
My heart as blessed as mother Hecuba

Though from your mythic love I’m left irate
I cannot use a word so strong as ‘hate’

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
they wept, tearing out their hair
and tossed it into the ocean
turning it into seaweeds.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
who then hid themselves in caves, till they passed
their skin growing pale and lifeless
till feathers emerged from their hands.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
who decided to mutilate their legs
and scar their feet
so they would no longer be human.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
and the creatures wailed as loud as they could,
screeching noises, ringing
but sounded only like bells to men.

the sailors called the sirens beautiful
but they didn't see beauty or sin
instead,
walking vessels
an empty name
and a prize to win.

He touched her richly
like king Midas.
Made her feel like
a queen dripping in gold.  

He made her believe
that she was his goddess.
Until her heart was
in his control.

He tossed her aside
after taking her all.
An unkind lover,
who damaged her soul.

He smiled at her sweetly,
as he took and he stole.
a golden king,
with a black heart of coal.

She cried, and she wept,
for this snake on a throne,
Now like Medusa,
her heart is of stone.