myth2myth

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Aphrodite: hollow eyes in marble

Their skin thickened. Their blood lost its warmth. Their faces forgot motion.

Aphrodite left them standing, not as women, but as stone warnings beneath the Cypriot sun.

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Aphrodite: no blush left

They mocked the rites. They laughed in the squares. They mistook contempt for freedom before a goddess who knew the weight of reverence.

Aphrodite spared the plains. Then she touched the blood.

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Aphrodite: a tempest behind the eyes

The Charites came to adorn her.

Instead, they were changed by standing near her. Colors deepened. Bees softened. And somewhere above, Olympus began to fear what beauty might unmake.

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Aphrodite: sea-foam with a pulse

She remembered no darkness.

Only water touching light. Only Kypros receiving her bare feet. Only Eros, ancient and armed, lowering his bow.

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gold like noon water

pulleys whispering

wrists caught

ankles bound

Hephaestus in the forge-glow

truth with teeth

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rose light, locked doors

myrtle in the air

Ares removing his spear

Aphrodite smiling below

gold twitching above the bed

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gold remembers

adamant loom

threads crossing like fern spirals

Ares laughing at dawn

the Sun still watching

the net almost breathing

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the sun kept the wound

olive shade

a kiss like molten ore

Helios above

a bronze raven descending

Hephaestus listening in clicks

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not to forget

wine from Nysa

bare feet among slag heaps

lyres around the anvil

and the first smile

after years of fire

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ivy in the crater smoke

twilight like spiced wine

Hephaestus at the hinge

Dionysus on the warm anvil

one god asks

the other says nothing

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soot on the war god

Ares came back quiet

Hera's chains held

Zeus clenched his jaw

and in Lemnos

the bronze kept flowing

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the forge did not bow

bronze dogs breathing flame

tripods marching like soldiers

Ares with his spear

Hephaestus still at the anvil

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lilies over the snare

Nemesis at sunrise

dolphins beneath the raft

a gull crying overhead

and somewhere north, Olympus still unaware

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the throne was born in basalt

molten gold

a quiet hammer

pain passing into craft

ivy curls hiding the snare

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Be unremembered

She opened the balcony a child fell through divine air and the cry did not die it hardened somewhere below

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Iris smoke and palace whispers

the chamber smelled of iris and thunder

purple cloth, held breath

a child in Hera's arms

and the palace already learning how to whisper

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Amphitryon never made it home in time. But someone did — someone wrapped in lightning and lies. Zeus wanted a child. Alcmena never knew the truth.