in the palm of pan's hand

A woman's mouth is weary
with fear older than the oceans
Rivers flow through our veins
Flocks of goosebumps fly
across our skin with every ripple
and yet we still find ourselves face
to face with gods
from outside our sanctuary
I am a woman with
water under her skin and
something the men all seem to want
The gods have been near the water since the beginning
Mystified by a mirrored exterior
Enticed by a woman who posed a challenge
So they stayed
Heavenly bodies know no understanding of
no
Because when a god is thirsty
He drinks
Shies away from monsters yet
still drinks from my body
I am just a woman with
water in my veins
and he is just a god who does no wrong
I am the villain in every story born from heavenly tongue
Who am I
Woman
to deny god water in the drought
So every story turns me into something beautiful
for his eyes to rest upon
The gods do not enjoy the songs water brings
So instead
He molds me into something just right for his lips
The god's favorite instrument is a flute
Curves just right for his hands
and a voice only when he gives me air
Men do not like water because they cannot command us
He drains every spring
to create flutes
And we do not win even when
we say no
or yes
The gods create the rules
But water
takes the shape of its container
and rivers do not forget
For every drought there is a thunderstorm
and the water has returned
even after a symphony of flutes has been made
The fear of god cannot stop the water
and we only rise
when rivers join together
Oceans
were once just teardrops of a defeated god
Brought to his knees by liquid chains and
We
are a force greater
than nature.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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