In proximity with what God or Goddess
does your soul live? That’s the question.
Sometimes, it seems souls are little boats
loosely anchored and variously moored
to long-lost Gods, memories, and dreams.
As Plato’s Myth of Er tells, unbeknownst
to mortals, our fatal decisions are often
made while still being down and dead,
just before exiting for yet another trek
from Hell by the jaws of its nether beasts
as our lots are being sealed by the Femmes,
the Fates—either by an Erinys or a Siren
or a Muse who leaves some with her gift
which then moves like a well-timed brush,
sweeping off the blankness of the erased
mind—to let us know and love her heart.
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