Cold. I am so cold standing here. Naked am I, but that is not the cause. No breath flows from my body. No blood runs through my veins. I am marble, a statue without human life. A mere carving of what this man desires.
How do these thoughts coime to me if I do not live? The Earth, my mother, whispers these secrets. Just as the creator of this form, whispers his love for me. His Galatea.
His arms encircle me, his warmth flows through me, warming the chill of my marble form. He holds me there, upon a pedestal, both figuratively and literally. He whispers of love, of beauty, and calls on Aphrodite, the goddess of love. Will she hear his plea? Grant his wish?
He begs her to give me life, to give him my love. He longs for the love of his Galatea. Me. What I wouldn't give to feel that reality--to feel alive. To love.
He embraces me. His kiss shoots through me like fire as I feel a sharp object where, should I have been humn, my heart would reside. I blink in surprise as my lips soften beneath his. Wait a second. I blinked. I moved.
My eyes dart to the corner of the room where Eros, son of goddess Aphrodite, stands. Smiling, he waves at me then disappears. Had he, my creator, seen it?
I raise my head up. My creator is startled as he looks up at me. Then he embraces my now human form once more. Each place he touches sends my body soaring as his touch changes me from cold marble to heated flesh.
I throw my arms around his neck. I still I can't believe I move! His arms wrap more tightly around me, 'til his clothed body melds with my body unclothed. No longer am I cold. I am Galatea. And he is? Oh yes, I've heard it before. Pygmalion.
I step down from my pedestal. He takes my hand and leads me to where I belong. At his side. This is my home. Home. I live, I breathe. I have life. Not knowing what life is like of what the Gods will bring, I take one careful step after another, following my love, my creator, into an untold destiny.