The Awakening In the chill of the workshop, the sculptor’s sure hands cut curves into cold marble, smoothed the planes of her face, struggling to perfect an image of divine Aphrodite, fitting offering for a goddess. Behind him, a handful of lesser finished works stare blindly, heedless, as stone softens to flesh, and she bends like a ballerina to embrace her creator; her arms raised as if to fire an arrow into his heart, but she herself is the bow; he bends her as she bends to him, in supple dance. So off-guard is he, so fervent, so reverent his embrace, that he never sees Cupid’s sly approach. The shocked masks behind him disapprove-- as society always seems to do. But we, witnesses to a miracle, a goddess revealing herself in flesh . . . . . . are forever denied her face. Deborah L. Davitt Deborah L. Davitt was raised in Reno, Nevada; but received her MA in English from Penn State, where she taught rhetoric and composition before becoming a technical writer in industries including nuclear submarines, NASA, and computer manufacturing. She currently lives in Houston, Texas, with her husband and son. For more about her work, please see www.edda-earth.com.
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The Ekphrastic Review
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February 2025
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