It was the dark god shape-shifting to fit
my hubris who taught me long ago
to beware of morphing into that
which was first found revolting.
I was an old woman before this god gave me the knife
wielded for my freedom. It was he who gave me
strength to endure until the winnowing of a wisp
revealed the flower in full bloom.
It was his dark skin and warm embrace during that long
night-sea journey where gleaming soul sparks
first mistaken for fireflies, birthed a fascination
strong enough to stir within the desire to return.
To return to the seashore of the mind to surrender
and return to surrender again and yet again
that which belongs to him while keeping
safe within what belongs to her.
This is how fate is transformed into destiny.
Amor Fati, 2021
Art: L'homme aux Masques, Leonor Fini, 1949