Last night I dreamt we climbed steep stairs to a dance floor in the sky and danced with wild abandon, sweat and spirit flying off our lithe bodies and I was pressed in on all sides and oh how I loved it. I paused only to rip off my heavy, emerald jewelry and headdress, tossing them to the side; my heavy hair falling down my naked back. There was a man there, a friend of my lover, and I danced with him, watching him want me, my eyes moving in flits and swoops while my feet kept me spinning, my arms kept me flying and the music grabbed us at our throats and we were all willing prisoners.
I know I’m Athena but the spirit of Dionysus is in my blood.
I left the dance floor, swaying and stumbling to the bathroom while the rhythm and music played with my balance and my vision. Over the sink while I clutch at cold porcelain I see my face in the mirror and I am perfect. I blink. I watch the flesh on my face, a moment ago so supple and fresh, turn ashy and stale and the skin starts to peel, long curly flakes of skin falling to the sink and the erosion is unending I can’t go back out there; the magic is gone.