Venus's Apprentice

By: Sarah Walker

she rocks on a satin sea
her crossbow jawline aimed upward
trained on the sun.

she shoots, trying to make
the sun sink to her,
make it fall
in love with her.

blushing rose petals dance around her,
rocking in the ripples she sends out
like messengers
telling the world
of her existence
with a wink and a nod.

“fly to me,” she cooes,
“come closer,

her mind is embroidered
into her billowing sleeves,
in sharp crystalized thoughts.

but her heart.
her heart is tucked
deeply in the corners of her being,
sliced into easily-concealed
pieces of a priceless object.

but if you, somehow, impossibly,
got to know her,
the pools of honey in her eyes
might melt down her face,
like the warmth of the blood
that once stained her there.