The Minotaur's Daughter Speaks
I want to be transformed
by something greater
than the taste of human blood.
I dance, dance, almost turn to ash,
as pallid hounds look on.
My organza dress wraps my body
like a spider’s thread suffocating a beetle.
I am an X-ray, a shadow casting
a bloody pheasant at my feet.
The sun dips down to chill.
Winter skates up and down my back.
I wake before first light,
eager to enter the softened hour
before my children rise.
They will meet the Minotaur
for the first time, and I transform
into a giant moth to protect them.
My massive wings extend like philodendrons,
hovering over anyone who gets too close.
The Minotaur is too old for murder,
but I want to make sure.
The children stand by the table
in black hoodies, waiting for their grandfather
to explain why so many innocents
were lost forever as they tried to find a way out.
The Minotaur stares straight ahead,
wrapped in a ruby robe, formed
when droplets of plasma touched the wind.
Crystal balls on the table tell nothing.
His horns swirl upwards like smoke.
Still nothing from his mouth except air.
Susan Michele Coronel
Susan Michele Coronel lives in New York City. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in publications including Spillway 29, The Inflectionist Review, Gyroscope Review, The Night Heron Barks, One Art, Funicular, and TAB Journal. Her poems were longlisted for the 2021 Sappho Poetry Prize. Her poem "History Brings the Heart to Repent" was a runner up for the 2021 Beacon Street Prize.
The Ekphrastic Review
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