Galatea
It was his chisel that carved bone, his careful fingers molded flesh, although not meant as flesh then, only refuge. Tell me: what does it mean to be more than wanted so hands unfold from ivory creases and lips peel in the cold like snake-skin? I never asked for this brain, these joints between finger-bones spread open; I could've kept the whole damn body for myself. But when a man finds warmth or touch and terms it love... To Aphrodite: sister, goddess, servant of man and his desire. I must give thanks for your kindness, its excess, abundance dripping like candle-wax from the temple’s altar. I never prayed. What, and to whom, have you given? Each year a sacrifice and another bull goes up in smoke. Steffannie Alter Steffannie Alter lives in Houston, Texas where she is a Master of Arts in Teaching candidate at Rice University. She is the former poetry editor of R2: The Rice Review, and her work has previously been published in Sou'wester.
0 Comments
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
The Ekphrastic Review
COOKIES/PRIVACY
This website uses marketing and tracking technologies. Opting out of this will opt you out of all cookies, except for those needed to run the website. Note that some products may not work as well without tracking cookies. Opt Out of CookiesJoin us: Facebook and Bluesky
April 2025
|