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Eleanora

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Eleanor was the sort of person who didn’t dance. It was not that she didn’t want to, more that she was rather unable to do so. When she was in uni she would sometimes sit alone in her bedroom at 3am, both earphones in, blasting Chappell Roan, and a strange urge would come over her causing her to shrug her shoulders up and down instead of writing the essay that was due in six hours. It was the closest she would come to dancing though. The second other people appeared it was as if all desire, all knowledge of how,
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CreativePoetryPolitics

Referendum

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And for the next, I worry. If the past is any indication of the future, My fears are justified. But we will see. May their efforts, our efforts, Make a difference. For if they don’t? What next.   When all is said and done, And the pieces lie scattered and broken, How far is the way back? How hard to search, blindfolded, bound, And dream of the sky.   So, I wrap myself in Country, In possum skins and the wisdom of my Elders. I soothe my scarred heart with the whisper of the wind in the gums, With a
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CreativePoetry

An Offering in Defense of Aphrodite

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Love and war lay tangled together, laughed at but the punishment was a failure being bare before them brought her no shame, she was the goddess of beauty seeing her marriage dissolve brought her no pain, she was goddess of love, not matrimony   She didn’t hate her husband because he was ugly but he demanded her hand and expected fidelity only choosing her because others lusted and fought over her frequently   But Ares didn't hesitate to remember that love finds the spot where it hurts and adds pressure she was older than the others and wilder finally, someone
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