●
Kassandra's story
begins where it ends,
with the gray blade
of bronze against
her throat.
[once]
The temple serpents
crept to her sleeping,
flicked their gift
upon her lips, tipping
her tongue.
[or later]
The temple's god
massaged her tongue
with his own,
then spit, when crossed,
into her mouth.
[one day]
Men would see
she was made like
the golden one,
and her forethought failed
in their ears.
[then]
Her cunt became
the prize of victors,
victims to be
of the horrors loosed
from her lips.
●
The blade took hold,
her life sped to the shore
of white margins,
where the glossator's wrist hangs
in the air.