A Maze of Marble and Mind – (a seguidilla) – Deborah L. Davitt
As I wander this maze, lost,
meant to meditate
on my place in the cosmos,
instead, I hesitate.
If a minotaur
roamed these halls, stamping, champing,
I’d never escape.
I can smell his musk,
raw testosterone,
click of hooves on marble floors
I was free to roam.
But I never chose,
my mind became my prison,
trapped within this close.
I am the prisoner and
I am the prison;
I am the minotaur
seen through a prism.
I haunt my own dreams
hunt down and trample my joys,
snared by my own genes.
Deborah L. Davitt was raised in Nevada, but currently lives in Houston, Texas with her husband and son. Her poetry has received Rhysling, Dwarf Star, and Pushcart nominations; her short fiction has appeared in InterGalactic Medicine Show, Compelling Science Fiction, and Galaxy’s Edge. For more about her work, including her Edda-Earth novels and her poetry collection, The Gates of Never, please see www.edda-earth.com.