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Emperor


This is one of my really good friends, who is seeking a career in professional writing. With poems like this coming from her pen, I would say that she is well on her way to brilliant success.

Literary Accidents

I.
Temples, brothels, barracks —
all built on the backs of my former lovers.

The brick? Their bones.
The mortar? My blood

The city was worthy of gods;
the sacrifice was great.

This architecture once pleased you,
the whores once pleased you,
the cavalry once pleased you.
I once pleased you,
nodding as if every word you spoke was
Gospel truth

And now you sulk in your chambers,
drunk and full of wrath.

Am I not the goddess
my father promised me to be?

II.
When they called you a barbarian, I
wiped the blood from my lip and put them to death.

Yet it was you
who slayed the innocents,

the virgins,
the children.

Your fury never waned.
Your sword never dulled.
Even Ares seeks reprieve.
Even Eros slumbers.

When you brought your bloodlust home
and wrapped it around my throat,

the city trembled.

III.
I have no gods.

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Author:

I am a Writing and Publishing graduate student at Emerson College. I studied English and Linguistics in my undergraduate career, as well as a little bit of philosophy and four other languages (somewhat superficially). I am interested in language and how we use it culturally, as well as a vast collection of current sociopolitical issues, including race, sex, and gender, and the ways that those issues intersect each other.

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