Poetry: Incapable

For Victory, from yours truly xo

You were once told that I was leaving and you had no choice.

It was said not with any religious fervor or excess of faith but in very sincere truth.

I earnestly believed that I was incapable not just of critical thoughts, but of critical feelings.

But truly you are a force of nature and no priestess refuses Pan his tribute, even though the strongest warrior she may be.

Your heart I mark with my sharpest arrow and with diary aquiver I swear to shoot straight for once in my life.

Your glorious thick lips my playthings and oh la, vendors aplenty we’ll visit in the quest of that divine satisfaction you seem to crave.

Jester’s crop in shades of black and watermelon margaritas sugary sweet on my

Race down the mountain goat tracks into your arms

Worship at my altar and may the taste of mangoes never leave your mouth

Dream of me as I colour the bleeding edges of your life, awakening your vision

Blind no more bind my hands tight as I kiss your eyes wide shut

I love you,

Marie Athena ❤

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