some days, i just want to be one of sappho's "pupils" in her weird aphrodite poetry school-cult
and the mirror
not her waking,
aching body showed,
but endless forms,
from feathered fractal
edges spilling out
a snowstorm
swirling silent
in her eyes
some days, i just want to be one of sappho's "pupils" in her weird aphrodite poetry school-cult