To Medusa

Molua Young


Dear Sister
I am writing to you
From the bottom of my cave

A man with a mirror advances
Making proclamations of divinity
Holding the mirror to the faults in my face

Dear Sister
When Perseus brought his mirror
And invaded your viper's den
Did you pity him? Or
Pity yourself?

They say a glimpse of our face will kill
Any man who dares look
Is that why they close their eyes
When they lay with us?

Is that why they never kiss us?
Only use, work

Dear Sister
Do you cower from the mirror?
I think I do

When my scales cover my chin
And my face stops being lovely

Sometimes I coat my eyes
With shimmering gold and false
Lips, blush, lashes
Reconstructing the face I could have worn

Dear sister
I am living our shared tragedy
And shall not write again
Tell Stheno and Euryale
I asked them to live long

Dear sister
My Perseus comes

Dear sister
I love him

It is always so

Image from Pixabay

Image from Pixabay

Molua is originally from Belfast having moved to Canterbury to study Biological Anthropology, in which she hopes to pursue a career as a researcher. She tries to combine the mundane and mythological in her work, turning everyday occurrences into epic struggles and monsters into relatable characters. Her poetry is intended to make the personal into something iconic, so others can relate to it.