She was a goddess in his eyes
when he did not know her.

She knew marriage would take her
off the pedestal but hoped desire

and love could learn to live
on levelled ground.

But when pedestal crumbled
where are her feet

In his eyes a strange stone creature
where a goddess used to sleep.

Bloody ugly blemish hinting at a wound sealed over
with layers of tough scaly tissue.

When he accused her of a dead heart
that was when she died.

She kept a carefully blank face
and closed off her eyes.

Celine Low is a nomad writer, painter, dancer and secret bathroom-singer. She holds an MA in English Literature, and her writing is either published or forthcoming in the Muddy River Poetry Review, Fifty Word Stories, One Sentence Poems, BALLOONS Literary Journal, and 9Tales from Elsewhere, among others. You can find her on Instagram @_ckye, where she posts raw drafts of her poetry.