Wild Magic

After recklessness savaged Nature to madness, my touch set the blood of men afire, brittled bone, devoured will. Screaming, I expected him to run from my want screaming.

My limbs were denied
the feel of his long fingers,
but he had a tongue—
his words knew how to be wild
magic, writing lust in me.

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the wee notes…
– To read other installments, visit my Stories and Web Serials page. The tales are listed under Ink and Feels.
– This week’s interactive writing delight dances with names. Help me choose a name for our long-fingered gent. You can offer up to 3 names. In the next chapter, our protagonist will call (perhaps moan) the name that sings deepest to my muse.
– Written for Hedgewitch’s Friday 55. Linked to Poets United.

artwork by Shelle Kennedy

Reclaimed

Greed ate compassion
out of the heart of the man.
His words reeked of rot—
gold only keeps teeth from death
if decay doesn’t rule the mouth.

“You can poke her for $15.” The man grinned, waving his bloodied stick.

“I’ll give you $300 for the stick… and some alone time.” The witch’s eyes remained on the cage, watching the creature that was woman and spider and Nature gone wild.

“Have your fill, miss. But no killing.” He handed me the stick. “Dead meat’s nothing.”

My will broke the cage,
but the storming was all hers.
She reclaimed her Self—
freedom is never a gift
one can get from another.

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the wee notes…
– To read other installments, visit my Stories and Web Serials page. The tales are listed under Belle du Freak.
– The essence of this bit of tanka-prose first burst out of my muse’s skull in 2012. I rewrote it as a short story and kept it to myself because it didn’t feel right. Then, the other day, while discussing tanka-prose with Rommy, I realized that I was unhappy with the piece because it was never meant to be a poem or a story, but both.
– If interested, you can read the original poem, “Belle du Freak”, here. Be warned… in those days, poetry and I were just beginning to flirt. We hadn’t even kissed yet.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

a wee bit *that has nothing to do with this poem*…
– Haven’t joined October’s Heart-Bits with Magaly? Follow the link. Write with me.
– And, as always, my Luvs: Be wild. Be deliciously wicked. Be you.