she is a paramount thing and it haunts her every move for a footstep means a quake and a breath inhaled means a shudder and a rumble. she is generosity embodied but disaster climbs through her veins. she is a paradox.
she bleeds in thick oozing liquid and it shines both gold and crimson. her veins fill with something akin to magic but it is none seen before for it tastes of stories and myths that she had eaten earlier for breakfast.
it is easy to see through her skin they say, to what is underneath. it is easy to see the fear and the murder that plays on the back of her eyelids when she goes to sleep, changing and transforming into dreams of nightmare origins. suddenly she isn't so great. she doesn't belong on the pedestal, no, because she is not pure she is not perfect she is not an impeccable being. a goddess. but they forget that a goddess is not perfection carved from marble.
- GODDESS PARADOX [ALTERNATIVELY NAMED: OF A LEGEND - 7.14.16]
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PoetryLIKE THEM; the cunning, the strong, the rational, the sensual, the rash. POE19 [151016]
