I am a faerie woman with sunflowers on her brow, made with patient fingers so that I might have the crown I deserve, though I ask not for worship, only…no. I mustn’t say. Aphrodite running her hands through her hair, laughter like sparks and fireflies in the air. When she twirls beside me, I feel a breathless rush of desire, her swan-like throat bared to my lips. She pirouettes away, beauty embodied, and I am whole. Right? I am… right?
There is someone in the shadows, watching as I move my body and trace my supple thighs, light catching the yellow petals so that I shine. Golden. I feel warm pulses of lust from the man in the darkness, as if he is behind me, touching me lightly and filling me whole. But… I am so good at bringing my own body to the brink and achieving ecstasy. It’s been months, with only me. So I turn away from the obscure phantom and his promises. What would he offer? What does he want? What can he give, that I can’t give myself? And why would I let someone in, anyway? I have tried so many times before and I’ve only felt pain.
Aphrodite trips me towards the gloom, and I fall headfirst into strong arms. “You can’t run from love.” A whisper of devotion in my mind from the Love Goddess herself…
I blink my eyes open, coming back to my body, wiggling my fingers and toes. The altar is as it was, candles straight and strong, crystals and honey jars, statues and cauldrons, incense burning down to naught but embers. The only flame flickering wildly is, of course, Aphrodite herself. “I don’t understand. Aphrodite, I don’t understand. What is it you’re trying to tell me? And why? You’ve been doing this for days. Please just give me a sign.”
But I know.
I wish… I didn’t.
(Written in 2022 – might add to the memoir. Stay tuned!)
Elisabeth Writing 