O, Cynthia by Cyn Grace Sylvie

O, Cynthia

Cyn Grace Sylvie

This poem was first published in The Dewdrop.

Feminine variation
The mound bending Delos Isle
Where she was born with her
Brighter brother; a white pearl sown
Upon a black dress quite becoming

Holy Roman epithet
Frigid daughter of Leto
Shouldering a slim bow
She rounds upon the sacred doe
An ancient beast; forever chasing

Grey sister, the Son of night
Held aloft for all to see
A mirror shield reflecting
That frozen serpent ever doomed
To consume itself, murdered then born

Virtuous Cynicism
Mispronunciation of
A Greek hero whose blood
Became the plant; precious namesake
Of my grandmother, gray-eyed and blind

We pass a glass between us,
One sharp tooth to tear and rend
This gold yarn ~ we dye red;
Wet chords passed mother to child while
She watches . . . pacing, quiet, unphased

Cyn Grace, The Grey Strega

(she/they) is a queer-identified writer whose work explores the internal drives and subversive desires of human experience, through the lens of mythology, sensuality, diaspora and mysticism.

Cyn is a recipient of Epiphany Magazine’s 2017 Short Nonfiction Prize, and long-listed as a Notable Nonfiction Selection in ‘The Best American Essays of 2018’ (Mariner Books). Their writing has appeared in MATH Magazine, The Literary Review, The Dewdrop, and The Rumpus.

• You can find them on Instagram @cyngracesylvie and @greystrega

• And on Substack @greystrega

  Cyn Grace, The Grey Strega

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