To Our Goddess Sophie Roberts
Goddess – you who sculpted us from your surf – you who carved us each into lesser Aphrodites. May I sing to you? We were given the form of a goddess so sublime that they who lived before us could not comprehend her as anything beyond flesh. Beyond long silken hair and longer legs. Beyond full lips and curved hips. Beyond bare breasts and…all the rest. When that goddess glided away – upward to the heavens – we were all still living our little mortal lives. And still they failed to see beyond the image of the goddess. The woman with thighs far thinner – hair far finer – eyes far wider – than any mortal goddess who still walked land and sea. Why did you give us the shape of the immortal perfection we could never be? Why share us with a world that could not see beyond the goddess’s body – and refuse to see beyond ours? We were born into a world that does not comprehend. We do. We comprehend the swell of the tide - the awful dread as a wave overwhelms you and the bursting of lungs as the salt waves relent and allow you to taste the air. We comprehend the flicker of flame – too stinging to touch yet gentle as it wraps you in the glow of its warmth. We comprehend the goddesses – millions of them – who see your beauty and see your terror and know that it exists in us too and that one day they – we will force them to see it too. Goddess – you created us and you formed us and you nurtured us. To each of us you are our creator and our lover. But the image of a goddess – a Being understood only for her singular perfection – is not mine. Is not ours. Is not yours. You created us and within us – as in the golden Aphrodite – you placed your terrible power. You have created us and now we will create.
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