A Contemporary Myth

A different type of “About Me”

Photo by Manyu Varma on Unsplash

I was ushered into sentience
by a duo of trickster mimic
and dancing mage,

the accidental fruit of their union
wrenching my soul from feral,
final exhale of a South American
swamp-dwelling salt cat

– I like to call them, “pocket panthers”

– and while the mage twirled mischievously,
bestowing upon the remnants
of my once feline essence

this newly-birthed humanity and
the uncanny skill of overanalyzing
my own origin story,

as well as the gift of True Sight
— of seeing this world as Truth
laid bare in its nigh-infinite
shades of poetry,

the mimic only laughed,
musically, mockingly,
gifting me his name to share,

for trickster mimics love playing at
enmeshed, compounded, comedic
irony,