Living is ink and want and him… a stitched story that has never been, a knowing smile that leaves logic and metaphors ashamed of being as unreal as words never felt. We kiss in books, on grass, in libraries, in crafted dreams… full of romances written with sharp teeth and (once upon a lie) sharper truths.
yours, for 13 whiles.
I will be
monster and hero,
for your tale in me.
Living is ink and want and her… She reads me real in her sleep, names me sweet Night-Mare, drinker of reason, all hers, in the wicked pools of our dark.
the wee notes…
– In myth, Mares are terrible creatures, bringers of nightmares that drive dreamers insane with terror. The succubus and incubus (female and male spirits that seduce dreamers) sound a lot like mares, don’t they? In this bit of tanka-prose, I wanted to explore what might happen if a mare and the librarian (obviously) he meant to torment end up finding common ground.
– Written for the Beautiful Freaks Fest 2017, and for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Literary Excursions with Kerry ~ Metafiction.
– If you haven’t entered my stitched poetry giveaway, follow the link to do so… commenting on this poem gives you 1 entry, if you’ve entered the giveaway.