Not For Human Consumption

I think that I see Aphrodite in her, in the way that she dances and shakes her hips and flips her hair.

I think I see the goddess of unfettered, undying love in the way that she looks at me and knows when to hug me and in the way she still gives me butterflies even though she's been dating me for a year and kissing me for two.

I think I see Zeus in him, in the way that he takes up the room as he stands up, leader incarnate, in the way that he cries when he's angry and doesn't wipe away the tears.

I think I see the god of the sky in him when he pokes me between the shoulder blades with his pointer finger and grins at me when I startle, then laugh, grabbing his arm.

I think I see the old gods in them, in their beauty, their power, their strength. They hurt to look at, like a god should. They are the word for alive that is more like raw power, the one that tastes like battery acid on the tongue and feels like it burns when you swallow it back down.

I think I see them step their doll feet into the footprints that the old gods left on the world, deep and jagged, memories that did not go quietly.

I think I watch them drape themselves in a mantle, one that looks too big, too heavy, and I think that they begin to glow with divinity.

I think I see Aphrodite in her years later, when I don't kiss her anymore but other girls do and those girls tell her that she's everything that they've ever desired. Love incarnate. I think there's the memory of an old goddess in her eyes, one who can't quite let herself fade, one who would do anything, take anything, in exchange for being remembered.

I think I see the god Zeus in him years later when it's his temper getting the better of him and he's hitting her and she's yelling stop stop stop but he can't (won't) and his anger electrifies the room. I think the memory of the god who cried power reappears, stuck in a mortal body with a perpetually overflowing temper.

The old gods fight to become more than memories but mortal bodies are not battleships and they break and she gets the knife in her back and he keeps the sparking eyes and the bodies that they stole aren't reclaimed and despite their best efforts the gods become memory again. And those memories have to find new bodies to steer, to consume because gods are not meant for human consumption but that won't stop them from trying.