Medusa.

Snaky curls

atop the Gorgon’s head,

ringletted bed head

after a night of passion.

Don’t look her in the eyes.

You can’t look her in the eyes.

A venomous tongue

inserting itself inside me,

burning and yearning

to blister the history of us

and change it to a scarred perfection.

Painting over cracks

only to stand on them

and break your Mothers back.

The intention of good is there

without the intention of changing

her slithering routes

to the straight and narrow.

Don’t look her in the eyes.

You can’t look her in the eyes.

She sashays from left to right,

the Queen on a chess board

doing the cha-cha.

Her body sheds its skin

and transforms over time

depending on who she is with

and what they want from her.

Thick eye liner

emphasises the evil of the eyes

as this temptress tries to turn

me to stone

just like her, all skin, all bone.

No flesh or feelings

no heart that’s beating.

I’m in her sights,

this blinding light.

Don’t look her in the eyes.

You can’t look her in the eyes.

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One response to “Medusa.

  1. Ah yes. Wonderful to see one of your mythical poems appear on my tag surfer again. I’m a fan. Keep writing and sharing…

    -J.P.

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