A negation
I was not “yours” --
A person cannot own a person
The best you could've hoped for
Was mutual support
I was not a “goddess”
This does not distress me
I never longed for deity
My feet were never made of clay
But walked the earth on flesh
They felt like pounded meat
In those new red sandals
You said you so admired
And my steps were “small and even”
Because I was hobbling in pain
I am not a “classic beauty”
I look a little like my father
And I have my mother's nose
A sculptor would not feel the need
To map my face in stone
And even in verse you gloss
Over my particulars
Save for my “raven locks”
And that was dye
A fact you should have known
I was always just myself
Why should I be compared
To someone else?
Venus was a slut, and
Helen had a lousy time
All things considered
-- As for Callistrata?
I think you made her up.
No great tragedy rendered us asunder
I would have traveled with you longer
But our paths diverged.
Your company was easy
But we never climbed
The heights of passion.
That was written later
In revisions of your press
Finally, I would like it
If you recalled these verses
As my husband might find out.
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