bronzed aphrodite

botticelli’s muse in black cotton scrubs—
woman on a cheap carpet clamshell
woman in fluorescent front office glare

tilts one pearled ear to cell, a conch shell
longs to hear the music of the sea—
the swirling, foaming green sea

soft cry from soft round lips
soft waves roll over white stone cliffs, dark eyes eddied
draining to whispered mist before
salt air ices, cracks—
a sigh, tumbling like wilted flowers blown by
zephyrs and our eyes set
to the vanishing point—

all around, the music of the sea—
the swirling, foaming green sea

tomorrow, all schools close

she sinks down to worn black-fabric throne
single mom alone
glazed behind plexiglass guards
taps at computer keys—

hands out paperwork, takes a temperature, files
bivalve vessel buoyed by rising swells
threatened by incoming tide—

three boys, all under five

o’ late horae of spring, celebrant with starry robes
held against blackening skies

your bronzed aphrodite, birthed from our defiant greed
what more could she long for—

____

Natasha Deonarain is the author of two forthcoming chapbooks, 50 études for piano and urban disorders published by Assure Press and Finishing Line Press respectively. She has most recently been nominated for Best of the Net Anthology 2020 by Rogue Agent Journal and won the 2020 Three Sisters Award by NELLE magazine. She has also been featured in Little Red Tree International Poetry Prize Anthology (2012) and is published in numerous journals. She lives in Arizona, depending on weather patterns.