(Written in 2010 about a former lover.)
Her face could launch a thousand ships,
but she’d laugh a thousand little laughs
and turn a thousand suitable suitors away
with a thumb-tucked fist
and an indifferent gaze.
The goddesses of Greece dare not mix her up in their silly contests:
the best they could hope for is a Pyrrhic victory
or a consolation prize,
but that certainly wouldn’t stop them
from inventing all sorts of nasty little rumors:
“Did you hear about her lover?
He’s not even a demigod.”
*Dedicated to Botticelli.