“What use are prayers and shrines to a passionate woman? The flame was eating the soft marrow of her bones and the wound lives quietly under her breast. Dido was on fire with love and wandered all over the city in her misery and madness like a wounded doe.”
― Virgil
And the rope
Around her neck
Began to twist
And writhe
And slide
Down the valley
Of her breasts
To rest
Beneath her ribs.
Black scales gleamed
With all the poison
Of an oil slick.
Its blind head rose,
Seeking warmth,
And showed
A gaping maw
With a lamprey-
Smile.
It struck!
Sensing blood,
It chewed and bit,
Spitting shards
Of flesh from
Needle teeth,
Blunt head pushing
Through
The gleaming ring
Of flesh.
It pushed
Inside her chest;
Its scales scored
Across the ribs
Like fingernails
And as it moved
It shed,
Left scales
Inside the vein
To spread its poison
To the heart.
Above,
Unknowing
How her heart
Was made corrupt,
The Queen of Carthage
Watched her lover leave
And did not feel the burning,
Deep inside her chest,
As Envy’s foul serpent fed.
Insp. The Death of Dido, Queen of Carthage and lover of Aeneas. When Aeneas came to Carthage she greeted him kindly and - under the influence of his mother Venus - fell in love. When he eventually left, Dido's heart filled with rage and bitterness. She never forgave Aeneas, and killed herself in anger and sorrow.
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