Medea I / Device

I’ll tell you plainly my dear that my heart
broke like a blade when the news hit me,
and I know that word makes you stop short.
So strange, after all, to see just the tip.

They say the shadow self trails us
for fathoms like a dirty tail. Ignore
my mixed comparisons. I’m not my best.
Yesterday, you had me still. From now, we

will not exist. That will be odd, but so was
happiness. I know it’s destiny,
the way I know the Argo is a blessed

ship. It’s just a fact and just fantastic,
the way my whole life has been. The power.
The magic. And now the metaphors stop.