I came
into this world
as much from Spirit as any male deity
but am often perceived by the fearful
to be less holy.
In my mortal form, men believe I am flattered
by propositions
and pleased when they tell me what to do, what
and who to love.
They think I am fulfilled when they try to force
obedience,
saying that what they want is what I must want
--
like those they hold in thrall.
Few in this establishment guess the rage in my
heart
and the secret plotting I do to render the bullies
harmless,
fighting each other to mutual defeat, shorn of
luck.
I drink their blood afterwards, wear their teeth
in my necklaces.
Here is my story in a myth:
In a time out of mind a Spirit visited earth
to destroy what is decayed and corrupt;
She carries a snake for a staff, dancing East
to West and back.
Between one noon and the next many mortals fall
into Her crypt
and all become slaves who would enslave Her.
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