A Letter to the Gods

When Hephaestus brought you a woman of clay,
a toy newly minted, you made me your doll.
Apollo, you were all too eager
to bestow on me musical charms
that I might play the harp
or play the fool.

Aphrodite, you plied me with gems,
as though a little glitter would get me by,
and you fashioned a smile
so slender and promising
like the crescent moon
a man might wish on.

Zeus, Hera, and Hermes—where do I begin?
You handed me words and the wiles
to string them like ocean pearls.
Then you added that damned jar,
certain I would treasure pretty things
nearly as much as knowledge.

Athena, you gave me a gown
and a veil to hide behind.
You made me a bride
and left me on the threshold,
young and heavy with gifts.
You never looked back.