Maren Zweifler Archives | Page 2 of 4

I was not a WASP darting through a world so acquiescent to my identity that it conspired with my ancestors to conceal my own sting from me.

“Kiss goodbye?” he asked, somehow regaining composure, authority, as his cross glowed insidiously, something ever reborn.

I loved how he looked asleep, this large yet sinewy man, always asleep on his back, like a beast so great it had nothing to fear.

I had suppressed something seething beneath the surface, awaiting the tooth or claw of another’s edges, because I couldn’t see my own.

The tyrant king threatens to consume our revival, but we are not without hope. The victory we tasted cannot be stolen as easily as he wishes.

I realized that Virgo, the earth sign of integration, had allowed me to feel the battle in all its darkness and blood.

I will present ideas to him and others that I think are right and true, but I won’t dehumanize people I love in this moment in history.

Just as I had felt Aphrodite come with warmth, I felt Artemis enter with the cold. The fog was coming in, breaking the spell.

I have been challenged, and instead of meeting the gaze of my challenger with understanding, the tyrant gazes out from my eyes.

Within the myths of the returning sun, the ritually reborn consort and the goddess who’s been to hell and back, I sense a natural completeness.