ATHENA CONSIDERS HER DESTINY
Stone words hard to wield,
smooth as the moon washed of night,
shape me into a weapon no man can see
except with the eyes of his bones.
Words tight as skin in a fleshless space,
worn thin in a cage of a promise,
design fast leap into the air
no man can follow, see nor stop
with scared silk of his nightly kisses
or daily prayers in his expectant hand.