Submission is a form of dominance
some have said
I think its interchangeable

Orion's dogs Illuminate this interplay of dependence
Two hounds sprint through space
constellating in a perpetual pursuit of power

You'll know the paradox
if you've come in with this story of the stars,
its microscopic anemones blooming in your blood

Or maybe you were taught
that the great Overdog is compelled to seek
the underdog, who although meek is never caught

Persephone, her yearning to yield
wielding the order of the morning after
she'd playfully said

'Oh, how I want to be your dog'

Obeying an avoidant disposition
the dominant fled, a fox on fire
swiftly evading the feeling unfamiliar

of a particular kind of Motherly love
a love that he'd grieved at not having received
a love that tasted like dread.

Adonis and his flowers, fleeting
lie wilted in a garden
groundless and wastefully fed

His tongue flickers
as his mind murmurs the words that
he recalls from Aphrodite's lament

'She's Love, she loves, and yet she is not lov'd.'

Within Áte's grainy gaze,
brazen and blind
the quest quickens

A sharp lack of sight apertures
too bright it blurs
that which we hound
with the clarity of delusion