a promenade of feeling

divinity is in all of us

I never believed in the gods until I met her

I find the words of Eros creeping under her pomegranate painted cheeks
itching to drip down the plush coating of her lips
where Euterpe can string their meaning into lovely tunes
which I can one day call my favourite song
she sees the work of Daedalus in the inky symbols etched into my buttermilk skin
each line twisting and turning like the walls of the labyrinth
each line strong and bold like the minotaur encased inside of it
together we replicate a picture of Persephone and Hades' love story

and in that moment I understood why mortals like to say that life imitates art
but she later taught me that life also imitates divinity
the epics of odysseus in ones calloused fingers
after holding the weight of the world
the poems dedicated to Aphrodite's beauty in ones aluminum smile,
after coating their eyes in hues of crushed moonstone

I never believed in the gods until I met him

I find the battle of Troy amidst all of his hardships
wars lost and kingdoms of childlike whimsy overthrown
by the straining voices of two combatant parents,
and predominant trepidations; prophecy's of what's to come next
after the blood of the god's is spilled in the cracks of his hollow heart

I find achilles in the way he chose vengeance
because war was made for the gods, therefore it was made for man

how ironic to believe that gods tend to live
in the crevices of all things mortal

he bathed in the carnage of each angelic figure on that battlefield
baptized in golden ichor, seeping through his pores
I find it in his freckles when apollo decides to encapsulate
his features in the honey coated light of the sun
only then will I ever be jealous of a god
for apollo gets to plant sun soaked kisses
upon his cheeks and I do not

but tell me
why should I ever be jealous of a god
when I have divinity flowing through my bloodstream
even though it'll never be golden?
what's more divine than having something infernal
become so heavenly with a seldom brushstroke
or the swift movements of a pen?
what's more divine than seeing your life unfold
into a conglomeration of beginnings, befores and afters?
what's more divine than surviving a cataclysm of hells
more troublesome than tartarus
and choosing to live on
when you have the power to bring death upon you?

tell me
please
what is more divine:

a god
or a mortal who possesses
equal strength
as a god?

-ken m 11/30/19