That swirled between her thighs--and I stood by
My sister--so I shared her fate. Men flee
Before my stare, for if they catch my eye
To milky marble they'll become--I stand
Them in my garden, stony sentinel
To warn away the wise and wary. Hand
Of bronze will bring my sculpture garden full
Of mutilated men. And yet, she's gone--
My sister, murdered by a mortal man--
Her scaly torso prone, the light of dawn
Reflecting in the blood that, headless, ran.
My gorgeous, gory garden can't assuage
My guilt, eternal guilt, eternal age.
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