The Sleeper and the Witch

With spit and blood, he trespassed into a coupled dream; soiling lips and breaking spells.

“I’ll make you princess of men and land, my prize,” he said.

She smiled into thieving eyes, thinking, When the Blue Moon illumines the heavens, my Witch will rise through thorns, and we’ll make you prince of pain and rot.

for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (Flash 55 Plus!) and Magpie Tales 281

The Sleeper and the Witch

Blood and Mirrors and Grace

Normal and orthodox and expected
broke her bones;
cracked lightning through her Self,
until she split in two
lonely pieces.

“My life is so thin, thin, thin
she said, falling to her knees.
“I can’t stop weeping into the mix;
all this running is pushing jagged bone
through flesh and skin…
so much blood.”

“Stir the fresh blood into life’s picture,” I said.
When the white of her eyes expanded and shouted,
That sort of thing just isn’t done!
I offered a smile, curtsied, straightened my shoulders,
and ripped my chest open until I, too, bled…
showing the mirror of my broken past
painting a pliant new whole.

She dusted off her wounds,
oned her Self
and rose to meet my gaze;

in the dark of her eyes,
I tasted the scent of wholing grace…
blood and mirrors and grace.

for Poets United, Poetry Pantry 261; and for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads (Outlawyer, aka Karin, asks us to think of “grace”. So I did.) To celebrate the fourth anniversary of The Imaginary Garden with Real Toads on Nelson Mandela International Day, Kerry O’Connor reminds us to ask ourselves, “What can I do?” Well, my Wicked Luvs, I can give my words… infused with love and witchy living.

Birth fo a Faerie, by SunshineShelle“Birth of a Faerie”, by SunshineShelle
It’s not déjà vu; I’ve shared this painting before… It felt appropriate, again