Daphne, Felled
The first blow came like an icepickheadache. And the second?Like a weakness in the knees.
I still remember what it was likehaving a human body, a woman’sbody. Full of rage, of honeybees
stinging each fingertip from the insideout while the drones busiedin my heart, wings scraping
the spongy interior of my lungswhile I ran from that dung-stainof a god. I lowercase his need.
I blot it out with my shadeas if he were a weed. I canonly remember my old body
through this one, now leaning,now falling in a fragrantcrush of leaves, a rustle
like a prayer reaching the mindof a god. There are manygods to whom one should
never pray. Women especially,hear me. If I had fallen with no onearound, I still would have
made a sound. Through me,winds have screamed all the wayinto eternity.
Lion Painted…
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The American Poetry Review (Digital) - 1 Issue, May/June 2023