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she flirts with her fate, then bends it to her will.

exhausting, wasn’t it? hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness, but now they see you as you are.

no contour needed to define the beauty that she is, & no wine’s sweeter than her spirit.

the highlights of her cheekbones are channeled directly from sirius, no jupiter’s moon nor orion’s belt to outshine her.

she tasted the metal, then mistook it for gold, no sweet singing that of a sweeter ode, for ash ╱ wine could never combine——even when the bitter aftertaste gets old; & you & i both know how stories like this are told.

she drank triumph like tequila——straight from the bottle, aged like ichor in her veins.

there’s nowhere to run from the fire she breathes.

her hell’s my paradise.

she’s the fire in the sin, & you burn breathing her in.

got a touch like midas, ‘cause the girl, she’s hiding gold.

she took vulgarity & made it look like elegance.

they tried to dethrone her, so she crowned herself.

it is my fault that you have forgotten to fear me.

i get everything i want & more.

her heart possesses the hardness of diamonds.

midas——touched, aphrodite——kissed.

she wore the kind of gold that midas wishes he could forge, no rust seen staining her wrists.

plot like athena, hunt like artemis, execute like hestia.

moondancer.