I sing with the Muses and drink ambrosia as if it were ink!

The complex words I write are the arrows that make the sky turn pink...

With the sea of my uncle and the lightning of my grandfather I make medicine.

The songs of passion and hate get lost in this eternal maze, labyrinthine.

Mount Olympus flows through my hair like the hands of Fates.

The imperfections of the Gods are the fruit of travelers that humans call dates...

Stories of heroes and lost lovers keep my ground soft for flowered inspiration?

Homer and myths make my mind open to the fields of determination!

My soul will always be free in paper and in the rays of the sun.

Music fills my ears with golden shoes that make me want to run!

I rest on slow traveling boats that take me to Hades underworld.

The darkness and the light are what make my poetry shine like an emerald!

Sonnets and ballads mix with the mint tea in which my quill dips in.

Hands shake when the dandelion dreams spin on my skin!

I write for the people that want warmth with the power of tears...

I'm Apollo's daughter, the one that reads your literature when no one appears.