I was wild.
My whisper was a wind that would rip harvest from it's root.
My tears; a monsoon.
Whirling dervish wild,
my spinning set off Doppler radars.
Sending the fearful to run for shelter
and the brave to play dizzy in my disaster.
Some sought to control me,
but how can you capture the wind?
I was soft.
When wet ... like clay
I would mold to my prey
& mirror his shape
to satiate his ego; appetite of ID
"We are alike, but also different."
& his vanity would manifest
and drown him in my water.
Once ... I was softer.
Once upon a time
in one of these lives of mine
I was ethereal, divine.
I was Aphrodite
deliciously inviting ... & likely
it was the promise of eternal dessert
that compelled my lover to put me first.
Sweet tooth & thirst
& without hesitation
I satiate him.
But inevitably he would tire
of this consistent desire | of mine ...
because nothing is DECADENT & CONSTANT at the same time.
I was "fine."
Abandon & left lonely.
a creature released unto the wind | to discover her way
adapt & assimilate
or go back and domesticate
only to create | yet ANOTHER "Once upon a time"
and though domestication is sublime
in it's constant forecast of "again & again"
Inevitably Aphrodite would cover her wounds in clay & say ...
"Yes, but what about the WIND?"