You forced everyone to wear emerald-tinted glasses to not shy away from my skin.
You said they were the color of my eyes and that green was the best of kin.
The witch and the master of disguise,
A match made to instill fear in those who ill advise.
I drip with the summer heat,
And burn my skin each time our lips meet.
You call yourself a wizard, though cast no spells,
Only I drink your love potion willingly, from your sacred wells.
I say in our separate towers we must stay remote,
But for me, you cannot help but dote.
You pluck ravens' feathers for my hair
And fill the meadows with poisonous air.
You collect winged creatures for my zoo
And speak of a world of woo.
That is until you conquer your emerald city.
You've taken a new lover I hear, with eyes not so pretty.
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...
