Girl, you best stop setting yourself on fire,
you may be the phoenix,
but these bones aren’t kindling
to keep others warm—
your spine isn’t a bridge
you need to burn,
and you aren’t a consequence,
Empress:
remember who you are.
Woman, you a hundred rivers,
each one gathering itself
carefully, unhurried,
unhampered, considerate
of its own current
and nothing beyond that—
this is your magic,
steady and certain,
heart open
but hands full of knives,
Queen of Wands:
remind them who you are.
Goddess, you are both roots
and sky, a gentle hymn
of wolves, keen and hungry,
but a universe of free. Your chest
holds a constellation
of reasonable lives
rearranged by passion,
and this holy crusade
has made you a heretic,
but your blood sings for it,
this legion of flaws, mouth reddened
by your own sins—
High Priestess,
tell them who you’ve been.
(Editors’ Note: “Athena Holds Up a Mirror to Strength” is read by Erika Ensign on the Uncanny Magazine Podcast, Episode 34A.)
© 2020 Ali Trotta