Six Seeds of Seperation by Joy Fairbrother
Myths never finish the story.
Giddy Persephone,
dancing ambiguously
through Olympian meadows
right up to the edge of womanhood,
desired Hades tentatively
in her thoughtless, childish way.
Little girls ripen like corn
into goddesses,
and become summer heavy.
Swaying before Cerberus' master,
half begging, half afraid.
Demeter's wayward daughter
flirts with raw passion;
Persephone plays a breathless game,
captive and captivating,
nubile and mutable,
taunting the Lord of Hell
with her budding breasts,
nipples like blossoms,
caressed by carelessly woven daisy chains.
Onto her pomegranate stained mouth
Hades whispers love and
the grown up secrets she craves
but cannot fully comprehend.
Pendulous breasts heaving,
Demeter, left alone in her despair,
draws back fertility into her womb,
clinging to it like a stillborn child.
Fully ripened and oft harvested,
she understands too well
the double entendre
of plowing and planting,
the excruciating pleasure
of godflesh on godflesh.
Her primordial maternal heart
was not prepared
for the sudden adolescent fecundity,
the precocious bloom of rampant sexuality
on Persephone's roseblushed childcheeks.
Zeus spared her the sight
of braids taken down and unplaited
in preparation for the bridal bed
and hymen's exquisite sacrifice.
But whose loss of innocence
does she mourn
in a wild extravagant grief,
splashy as red poppies
in a verdant field?
Demeter regains only partial vibrancy
when Persephone returns as Spring,
never able to forget
the pomegranate seeds
which, once consumed,
became the six seeds of separation
between a goddess and a girl.
Myths always end
without telling you
the entire story.
Back to the House of Hades
Back to my Main Page
To Joy Fairbrother's Main Page
More Underworldly Documents