Sappho’s Song

Simeon Solomon’s painting of Sappho with Erinna

Beautiful, Plato purred…

As the air in my lungs breathed lexis, diction, words,

But passion brewed this poetic mixture;

It tasted and it stirred,

Your skin, your sweetness, your mind became the bone of my expression,

Now my hymn to Aphrodite is read in exegesis as a sexual confession,

Morphing my purpose away from theological questions,

Is this academic insight or academic oppression?

I was a verb in an ancient contextual framework of nouns,

You, History, try to fit me into scholarly cages as if I were merely vowels,

But I am more than poetic verse and sweet sounds,

I will forever be a muse that you shall eternally try to expound,

But within my words,

I am present and I am found.

By Sophie Bea Louise Overton

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