I am a daughter of the Sun.
I know what it is to burn,
and on that birthing bed
I was aflame. The women
were too terrified to touch me,
so I struggled alone, cursing
Poseidon until salt scorched
my throat, slicked my thighs.
I was a sacrifice, blistering, lost
in the stench of blood and barn.
Until, with one last lowing scream,
I reached between my legs
and pulled the baby out
by its horns.