Artio
#goddesspoem by Marisa Silva-Dunbar
She slumbers in the cavern—
frost blankets the ground.
We bring her strawberries,
pineapples and apricots—
her first feast of the year.
We’re isolated in our own winter,
searching for snowdrops and dandelions
promising spring.
Her copper colored hair unfurls,
shines like fire. She wakes and roars,
her bear spirit shattering the ice
on our eyelashes. We must confess
why we have hidden our ferocity
in her absence, explain why
we have let men shrink us into palm
size souls. They should be quaking.
Marisa is a poet, bruja, spirit companion, and contributing writer for Pussy Magic.
Growing up in the Southwest influenced her magickal practices, and she considers herself a kitchen witch. In her free time, she enjoys reading about the Fae Folk, scandals in Old Hollywood, and the spirits of the sea. She is obsessed with kitschy motels in the desert, mermaids, vampires, and pinups. In her twenties she attended UEA in England, and misses being able to sit in pubs, people watch, and write.
You can find her on Instagram, Tumblr, and Twitter @thesweetmaris.