Danae Welcomes Andromeda
1.
Yes.
We were entombed
in a sarcophagus
and then dumped
in the sea.
Before the lid closed over us
my father looked at me with sad eyes,
and shook his head as if to say,
I knew you'd end up failing me.
Normally, a visit from the gods
is greeted as a blessing,
but for the prophecy
that said my baby son would kill
his grandfather.
Maybe his disappointment
murdered the dream
to marry me off
to a warrior king
and spawn a dynasty.
I'll never know.
2.
Yes.
He’s my son.
His tan skin,
dark curls that embrace
his strong neck,
and occasional thoughtful gestures-
he gained from me.
He’s his father’s son.
How do I know?
It’s the gold glimmer
I see flash in his eyes
when he’s working out
a solution, or sly strategy
to get away with what’s considered
impossible, or just on the right side
of immoral. He doesn't care who he hurts
when he strives to win, or bother to look back
at the trail of carnage in his wake.
Ask Medusa. O… we can’t.
3.
No.
I can’t tell you
how to be a good wife
because I never was one,
but I can be your friend,
and another sort of mother
if you choose.
We both love him,
and nearly lost our lives
to prove it. I'm here to listen
and to hold you close
on those days he’ll be gone
without a word, or Fates forbid,
he discovers an adventure
that’s too good to leave alone.
A Quiet Lullaby
This morning, I heard the voices
of a crow, and a pair of starlings
weave together beneath
the concrete melody of traffic,
a slow, resentful onslaught
of people on their way to work
or school. I remembered
my grandmother as she
pulled weeds from her garden,
my father’s dark disappointed gaze
as he memorized the D
on my report card,
and my siblings,
small hands clasped
as they chased
the ice cream truck
down the street.
I wish I could tell you which
of memories are true,
or just a wish,
but when you hear a lullaby
that’s almost as old as time,
it’s easier to close my eyes
and move into the music,
and for a moment, I forget
everything and everyone else.
Marie C Lecrivain is a poet, publisher, and ordained priestess in the Ecclesia Gnostica Catholica, the ecclesiastical arm of Ordo Templi Orientis. She currently curates two literary blogs: Dashboard Horus: A Bird’s Eye of the Universe (travel themed poetry and art), and Al-Khemia Poetica: A Women’s Art and Literary Journal. Her work has been published in California Quarterly, Chiron Review, Gargoyle, Nonbinary Review, Orbis, Pirene's Fountain, and many other journals. She's the author of several books of poetry and fiction, and editor of Ashes to Stardust: A David Bowie Tribute Anthology (2023 Sybaritic Press, www.sybpress.com).
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