Sunday, February 18, 2024

The siren’s song Feb. 14, 2024


My heart still skips

When she posts a picture

her eyes, hair, mouth,

engraved images in my brain,

refreshed, redrawn

like the cat she sketched

on that black board

in that school that day,

only it’s her face

recovered, and I’m transfixed

like ancient shepherds

each time Athena came,

why on earth did I try to stop them

back then, when she issued them

like a morning bulletin,

maybe even knowing

the reaction on my end.

Maybe I thought

I’d turn into a pillar of salt,

(or go blind as the nuns once said)

or lose my mind like the ancient sailors

who sailed passed

where the sirens sing,

she the most vivid siren of all,

while I bound myself

to the mast of my ship

stunned,

and now,

all these years later

it’s too late to untie myself

and let her song

consume me.

 


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