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made of mud in the eyes of a god

the sky is bright white today with an overcast
so I can't see the pearly blue
you created with a single sweep
of your bullet-like eyes.
(they're shooting holes into my forehead.)

Zeus holds a lightening bolt and uses it to shock me.
as he rains down my window,
pattering like little pebbles as if to get my attention.
(can gods fall in love with an insignificant-unamazing-tolerable human?)

because I am made of mud,
the kind that drips and slides between your fingers
in slick smooth drops, if you squeeze to hard.
(I'm just that difficult.)

I'll spend my star-strewn evenings
lying in the gentle emerald grass, counting
constellations and fier-flies,
praying to a goddess that Aphrodite will lend me
her beauty so I may woo him,
to the best of my ability and in the ways he doesn't really deserve.

this may just be the max my love can reach.
but how should I know,
I'm just a human, and my heart is only
a few inches long.



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This article has 2 comments. Post your own!

Jenna B. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Aug. 16, 2009 at 4:46 am:
I really love this. You're such talented poet... I've been reading your work! My favorite phrase is "lying in the gentle emerald grass". Such a beautiful image :) And the last two lines are brilliant. Keep up the awesome writing!
 
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music said...
May 29, 2009 at 8:52 pm:
ths is really good!!
 
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