Call me the female Oedipus,
Loving a reflection of who created me.
Not in physical form,
Though his essence is enough to elevate to your height.
Our love produced an anti-Antigone.
Rather than tragic beginnings and endings,
We had none whatsoever.
I lay flowers at the base of your imaginary grave,
Knowing I no longer have to carry Ariadne's thread.
In the afterlife, create a map of your own doing,
Where we can get lost in the labyrinth of desire, instead of logic.
I hope age soon matches your brow,
For you are only beautiful in beginnings,
Before time reveals the lines of your frowns and lack of smiles.
We tamed chaos and rode the Minotaur,
When it was I being conditioned.
I no longer respond to bells.
YOU ARE READING
An Ode to Muses to Kleio
PoetryThis poetry collection explores love, lust, betrayal, and a dash of rage. Bonus points if you're a Greek mythology fan! Written from a female perspective, it goes through the motions of complicated relationships, cheating, longing, and moments of pa...
