Huntress

the sky gathers itself like a choir as you put into words what the silver wings hide

she spreads silver wings, calling it
     protection
 her dogs know only
        one scent: the odor of guilt
             she assigns at will
she is judge
        and jury
          and executioner

her temple welcomes women and
     children but 
the doors remember
        blood, the exact number of
stags torn for
             seeing her true form

she names it justice
 righteousness
     but a fanged righteousness 
          hunting in packs
        who have forgotten what
             it was created
                   to defend

and you
      shaped by the canine
            teeth that should have 
               destroyed you,
        stand in the moonlight 
          and refuse
              to howl

the sky gathers itself like 
     a choir
        as you put into words
 what the silver wings hide:
        that revenge dressed as protection
still tears innocent flesh

your voice is a lion’s
     not because you were 
born fierce
but because 
     something 
filed 
     your 
edges
     sharp 
        through every wound
                     that didn’t kill you

the dogs circle 
     confused
they have never met their own
      impassive reflection: 
     a woman 
          who will not
                  be weaponized

the moon dims
      it always does
          when someone remembers
                the sun