If we were gods


Nobody worried about the goddess of love,
when war seduced her and wound his way
into her heart and mind. (And how could he resist?)
She would kiss his wounds in front of the other gods,
and their scowls and scornful eyes.

Aphrodite was the only one who could calm
Ares when his bloodlust had become too much
and he was prone to destruction in fits of rage.
He sought sanctuary in her luscious temple, a decadent
haven for the hated son. Even the god of war could be sated and healed.


Everyone worried about the goddess of spring losing her shine
in the cold and unforgiving world of hell. She was the underestimated princess
—had the talent of making flowers bloom with her fingertips,
breathing the heady heat of summer into the deep, frigid shadows.

Persephone didn’t lose her light; she became an ember warming Hades in bed—
She was his glowing star in the darkness of the Underworld, a Queen.

Marisa Silva-Dunbar


Marisa Silva-Dunbar’s work has been published in Spider Mirror Journal, Mojave He[art] Review, Anti-Heroin Chic Magazine, Poetry WTF?!, Better than Starbucks Magazine, Redheaded Stepchild, Words Dance Magazine and Gargoyle Magazine. She graduated from the University of East Anglia with her MA in poetry, and has been shortlisted twice for the Eyewear Publishing Fortnight Poetry Prize.

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