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By Misti Date: 2004 Jun 26 Comment on this Work [[2004.06.26.17.44.17184]] |
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Hera, I have starved you ignored your unapologetic black burning eyes while being beguiled by Aphrodite's plump rosy nippled breasts and sweet lying smirk. I have worked for love overtime and let the grime mar your strong shoulders and fierce feet, the feet that march the straight and narrow, never distracted by the lute songs and falling stars. I have followed Aphrodite to Hades because she promised me the pleasure would make me forget the pain. I haven't forgotten. I see my scars daily. I eat at strange tables because I have no table of my own. I am still trying to find my own orchard so I can stop saying I'm sorry for eating somebody else's windfall apples. I am still weak but I am learning. I am still burning for more touch, more whispers, more caresses, more promises, more dancing across the cosmos like I own every star, every planet, every moon and the sun. I am still looking for someone to wipe the tears away and kiss my feet of clay and not blame me for the mess. But I digress, Hera. I am writing this poem for you, after all. You are the goddess to placate. Aphrodite will do fine without me. There will always be fools and lovers eager for the next chance. I'm sitting the next dance out and I am trying not to pout about it. I want some power, finally. I want to say NO MORE! and ENOUGH! and not cower from the consequences. I want to scream the dreaming away. I want to wipe the golden slumbers from my eyes and find paradise in my mind. I want to trust my mind. I want to use it to think. I want to put the fantasies away and not worry about the mildew. I have my work cut out for me, Hera. I'm not holding out for a hero. I'm going to be the one to save myself. It's so much harder this way. You aren't as pretty as Aphrodite. It's hard for me to look at you and not feel foolish. It's hard for me to look at you and know the party is over. I've been putting this phase of my life off for over a decade. Come over for lemonade, Hera. We will toast to grown up women everywhere who are done with the foolishness and ready to do the hard work. The fields need to be plowed. I am tired and brokenhearted and I know there will be blisters but I can't wait to get started. |