timandra; (poetry — my own)
you were born an ocean-child,
sea foam bubbling from your lips,
crested waves of hair
and when the woman placed
you in my arms i was
blind and deafened
intoxicated with the roar
of the waves and my shame.
i saw my (& your) capacity for deceit
in your wandering eyes,
flirtatious,
curious to take in everything,
an ever-present reminder
of my own, for when zeus came
instead of your father,
i liked it
and i have always hated you for it.
