gorgon

that one slithers over her sisters,
the greenest streak in the verdant field.
the emerald wave in the jade sea of your head.
the celebrity snake half-buried in your scalp,
slithering in place, hissing frustrations.

if i wasn’t stone i would regret not admiring
this yesterday when i was too enamored
trying to take off your head.
trying to find your face in Athena’s mirror.
if yesterday i came without scraps
from the armory of Olympus, would you have let me
come close enough to run my fingers
through the tangle of your serpents?

ah, but i am mere stone strewn
among other statues in your fold.
i collect visions as best as stone eyes allow,
before the ages wrap me in moss, almost lovingly,
and then all there is to do is listen
to that ubiquitous winged horse, to Chrysaor,
tangle as twins in your womb.



2014.05.27