Hidden in the recess of an alley in Athens is a den of men's basest desires. Inside lay an assemblage of beautiful women adorned with lilies and pearls. Every stretch of their swanlike necks makes their finery unfurl over their bare skin like waves upon a wine-dark sea.
(if:visits is 1)[(click-append:"wine-dark sea.")[
I know of men who think they have seen every part of these women in a tangle of sweat-slick limbs. But it is I who has seen them for their charm and grace and beyond their bodies and into their hearts and souls.]
(click-append:"hearts and souls.")[
Zephyra, a fellow //porne//, steps out from behind the curtain. Her body spent, she slumps onto a cushion beside me and warms my hand in hers. Her eyes, amber and myrrh swimming in two milky white pools, droop with tiredness. As the sky darkens, we trade affectionate words and [[soft glances->soft glances]] as easily as lustful men trade silver coins for gratification.]
(click-append:"gratification.")[
"Flawed creatures, all [[fickle hearts->fickle hearts]] and wicked desires," a man passing the brothel spits. His eyes are smoke and silver, all sharp angles cut in the shape of disdain.]](else:)[
I know of men who think they have seen every part of these women in a tangle of sweat-slick limbs. But it is I who has seen them for their charm and grace and beyond their bodies and into their hearts and souls.
Zephyra, a fellow //porne//, steps out from behind the curtain. Her body spent, she slumps onto a cushion beside me and warms my hand in hers. Her eyes, amber and myrrh swimming in two milky white pools, droop with tiredness. As the sky darkens, we trade affectionate words and [[soft glances->soft glances]] as easily as lustful men trade silver coins for gratification.
"Flawed creatures, all [[fickle hearts->fickle hearts]] and wicked desires," a man passing the brothel spits. His eyes are smoke and silver, all sharp angles cut in the shape of disdain.]Perhaps I am not free to roam the city streets like the men who seek me out.
(after:3s)[But I am free to feel carded wool between my fingers, to spin its coarse hairs into string, to weave that string into a tapestry.]
(click-append:"tapestry.")[
And, in that tapestry, to create a [[masterpiece.->remain]]]In the agora stand tables cluttered with produce, sparkling beads and jewelry, and housewares. Zephyra is here, too, setting vases and clay pots onto a low table.
The man with eyes of smoke and silver stands in the distance. I pad closer, catching snippets of his conversation with a member of the //ecclesia//.
"I am telling you, //domine//, my statue is perfect, with milk-white skin and honeycomb eyes," he says. "I have dressed her in lilies and pearls and lain in the snowy curve of her neck. In the morning, when I kissed her ivory lips, I found them warm. Aphrodite has heard my prayers. I shall never again debase myself by associating with a creature of depravity."
//How can he who has insulted us so deserve a love that (cycling-link:"defies the laws of nature", "catches the attention of a goddess", "is imprinted in stone")?//
I race through the streets back to the [[brothel->return]], even as she with eyes of amber and myrrh chants my name like a prayer.I weave rouge lips and ivory skin, surrounded by garlands of violets and hyacinths, into the tapestry.
(after:5s)[ She is beautiful, my masterpiece—not in spite of the women she mimics, but because she mimics them.]
(click-append:"she mimics them.")[
Footsteps ring out behind me.
(after:3s)[Spinning around, I let Zephyra sweep me into an embrace and understand that I need no prayers to be graced by the presence of a perfect being.]]Psappha of Lesbos had her sweet apples and mountain hyacinths. So too do I have my [[amber and myrrh->start]].