She knows our gods, that misery and service,
The vision, and why the vision's worthless.
But some gifts only give as we are bolder;
Beauty is in your lies when you hold her.
Let the charted heart unlearn its edges,
All anthems stumble at their pledges,
Follow her into mazes, operas, the moaning seas,
Trade Truth for Freedom, honey for the stinging bees.
You can't resolve her with slogans or spy ships
Or all those pretty girlies in night slips.
It will take far more than armies to slay her
Who turned every naked star into Estrella.
Nathan Woods, editor/overlord