Ted by Sylvia
His waylaying voice still spells a trance
As he now pursues my ignored ghost
And unwraps himself as the gentle, grieving giant.
Glowering over the inevitability of my long gone death.
Mad girl, grabbed at the roots by some vengeful god.
My moon women to blame, heroic mother,
Compassionate doctor, proud teacher.
Not forgetting my colossal Father
Who grew me Zeus-like from his ear.
And produced a ready sacrifice for the cult.
Asking for it, I even drew the Rival to me.
The three of us danced entwined in our Fable,
He was of course a purely mythological side
In our Eternal Triangle.
A bit player in one of cruel Fate's many tragic stories.
He has forgotten. Forgotten.
Forgotten who threw my love back at me like God
Returned unanswered my pleas and prayers for Daddy.
I thought he'd shrunk. But yet is he still
Huge, commanding worship and compelling desire to believe.
23rd January 98
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