Leda Meets Helen
She is fresh on this globe from my globed belly and I am too scared to look. I dread the moment she opens her eyes. She could have his black beads.
I unwrap her. Not a feather in sight. I turn her over and over with delight, run my fingers over her human down. Her toes are angular, unwebbed. Her neck cannot hold up her head. Her lips are soft, pink, unfed.
I will never teach her to swim.
I will never dress her in white.
Angharad Walker graduated from the University of Warwick with a degree in English Literature and Creative Writing in 2013. She lives and works in London.