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