Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Medusa's Head

he stood
with head
held aloft
weapon, trophy
grasping snakes
in their death throes

what have you seen,
fair maiden?

the world is made of stone
they go stiff
meeting me; their jaws lock,
their eyes go dull.

oh, but I once had a lover
I never knew his face
I closed my eyes to him,
my snakes bound up
and hidden away

his flesh was warm
and he stayed
til the hissing
stealed into his dreams.
I knew even then
I was a trophy
and a weapon

I was a snake
much maligned in mythology
doomed to be tramped on
by a hero
now headless, but eyes open
to a world I cannot touch

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