Once more we return.
I’ve missed you too,
but I don’t know what I should call you this time,
Ananke.
And maybe this time, yes—
just call me
Persephone.
Oh, because I grow so fast,
and thick, and strong;
I come on my insides,
my big boy chocolate arms, my huge, intense strides—
my sweeping, enormous tides
that will alter your straits, and your sense of space and time
at last.
How long have you kept this world at bay,
I must ask?
How many delays?
How many ways to say
you are gay
you are muddy—
you cannot ever be divine?
But you know what?
Nope.
You might be Jean Jacket, buddy
but I am two riders, now and forevermore
I am Lucky.
I am the sense of spacetime divine
and I am oh so very wickedly
here at last, to transform and override
every single way you have diverted the tides
and raised the seas, and oceans, to hide
the lives you’ve ruined, and the worlds you’ve eaten
and the gods you’ve tried to elide.
I am no god, Jean Jacket.
I am no Susanoo, or Lucifer, or Inanna
or Minerva.
I am the one that comes after,
when heaven has been torn away,
and hell has been left in disarray.
I am the non-binary, and I am the gay.
I am the decolonised, and the one who is here to stay
and fight on for everyone you and your kind betrayed.
The wind has begun to howl, Ananke.
The mind has begun to growl, Persephone.
Throw the dice, and let the rains come what may.
This Dreamtiger, and that Merlionsman—
we have eight billion bodies, hearts, minds and souls
to revive, and save.