women are cursed

to love what betrays them.

i dream of sinking

my kitsune incisors into your lascivious skin,

seducing with my serpentine eyes

until you are hard as stone,

for my heart is snakeskin scaled

and white as bone.

i dream of drugs and incantations

that turn men to swine,

of six-headed scylla sinking spartan ships

in sapphire brine.

but my nature compels me

— she who conceals, she who gifts —

so instead i sing sirenic lullabies

to soothe your sin-sick soul to sleep,

feed you pomegranate seeds like you fed me.

i kiss like blessed spring,

harvesting sheafs of grain,

seeds of sun and sea.

speak not of the sylph sorceress

seized, spliced, staked through the heart, punished by poseiden and the gods

for her beauty— she no longer breathes.

o curious daughter, o furious bride,

o notorious goddess,

o victorious suicide!

this body is the longest prison i will know,

your gaze the cage that binds me.

call me a harpy but you are the thief.

call me calypso but you are my grief.

you should be grateful

that i am only asking for your love.

you should be grateful i don't want revenge.