strong (as strut or wing, as polytope, as things are
Each night, Cassiopeia came so near,
Andromeda was able to study her cat-like poise
With such a friendly gaze it seemed just noise
From earth. But what she sensed was fear.
Her mother had grown monstrous with age, feline
In the worst sense, cat-quick and sensual—
As if each act could be consensual,
But wasn’t—for not even sex, as sublime
And quick as cats are, sufficed to calm her.
When morning came, the music in her head—
Crescendos, decrescendos—stopped her dead:
Her eyes out there, her eyes forever closed.
She’s trapped, like you and I will never be,
A constellation—and its atrophy.
I don’t know if it was inspiration or not, but you might like to listen to Alice Coltrane’s Andromeda’s Suffering. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hfsYmrqB8EE