Minerva

In the myth, I sprang from my father’s head, armed and fully formed.IDENTITY.You’ve often wondered if you’d ever meet me. I am, perhaps, the one you thought you would not find.You’ve looked for me, though. Searched through the crowds for my face.My physicality is striking, geometric yet classically feminine. Neither young nor old. My mind is vast and voracious. I can hold conversation in any room in the world. I enjoy the open ocean as much as the city streets.Undercover but in plain sight.Everything you see of me in this world, I have written. I tend to have the most chemistry with with men who take equal care in their correspondence and who seek a complement to their sovereignty.You may know me from elsewhere, some other angular trajectory. I am an artist, performer, intrepid, and unrepentant.Or, perhaps, we’ve always just missed each other somehow thus far. Maybe that time is coming to a close…