Today, I didn't follow instructions again, but I certainly think I COULD incorporate some shell names into this poem, maybe particularly when describing what goddess-skin looks like. Anyway, I really like the opening of this poem, but I need to work on the transitions and, most especially, the second half. What I'm TRYING to do here is show the paradox of power/beauty/femininity through a contemporary retelling of the Diane/Actaeon myth. Hmm... I'm also thinking about those ridiculous Venus razor commercials.
The Myth of the Goddess, When She Wakes
Above all myths you must uphold this one:
the beauty of a goddess comes with ease,
that you're reborn each morning from the ocean
of your sheets in all your goddess splendor,
full-formed, complete with slightly wind-blown locks,
with skin that smells perpetually of lilac,
legs without a trace of hair that beg
to be caressed with just a hint of shine.
Make your expression always painted smug,
a smile that shows you're better than the rest
because your beauty is a sacred gift.
Maintain this image. No one has to know
what happens in the bathroom, all you do
to serve your body on the scallop shell,
make it presentable to mortal men,
to give you power. If, by some mistake,
he catches just a glimpse of you, peers through
the shower curtain of your self and sees
the mess you really are, your power's gone.
You'll have to silence him like Diane did
to Actaeon, with just your eyes, make him
a deer caught in the headlights of your rage.