Thorned

You wear no mask
in my dreams, you are no one’s
sick rose. Your thorns prick
softly, carving the best of you and me
(an image of rapture) on my skin.

 

Remember
our first night?
We’re ink-drunk…

your hands wild,
my hips starved,
our souls lust.

“I’m a blank
book”, you said,
“write me yours.”

 

Awake you’re hungry
ink undreamed real
in my head, your voice
fairytaled… thorned
nevermore.

 

 

Inspired by the expression ruling the pretty face of Wisteria, a doll crafted by Rhissanna. Find more of Rhissanna’s work on her Etsy shop, and on her newly started Patreon page (where she creates dolls and stories). Also, if you love free books, follow this link to Amazon and download a copy of Mabel Bunt and the Masked Monarchs, a novel by Rhissanna (aka R. Collins) and B.R. Marsten.

Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

 

41 thoughts on “Thorned

  1. I feel like it’s cheating a bit, knowing Mabel’s story (and a crackling good one it is!) so I can see the clever hints here and there. But you don’t need to know the story to really feel the wanting that couldn’t be satisfied in one passionate night, even though the speaker knows that wanting and pursuing it past that evening comes with a cost.

  2. Phew!🔥 This is a heavily sensuous poem, Magaly 💖 I love the way you have incorporated the words here.. and can feel the heat and intensity in every line. The idea of being ink-drunk is delightful!😍

  3. Ah, the lustful dream is so evocative. That’s the ripple of desire expanding into something beautiful. And the hunger after waking up is rather intriguing.
    A well-wrought verse. 🙂

  4. I love dolls!!! Wisteria is such a great name/theme for one.

    I’m crazy over your poem, especially these bits:

    “in my dreams, you are no one’s
    sick rose”

    “Remember
    our first night?
    We’re ink-drunk…

    your hands wild,
    my hips starved”

    • I, too, love dolls–the sweet looking ones, the creepy ones, the terrifying ones, the cuddly ones… all of them–and Rhissanna makes such lovelies.

      So glad you liked the poem, too.

  5. I love the William Blake ‘sick rose’ reference, Magaly, but I have a doll phobia, so I’m avoiding the image. Great lines:
    ‘…Your thorns prick
    softly, carving the best of you and me
    (an image of rapture) on my skin’.

    • Oh, wow. I know people with specific dolls phobia (like clowns and realistic looking baby dolls). But I’ve never met anyone with a general doll phobia. How did you manage to stay away from them when you were little, and friends or family were playing?

  6. Thank you so much for this, Magaly! For the choice of image (Damn, but the girl looks good on your page.) the links, dear Mr B and yes, this erotically dark poem. Yes, I see Mabel echoed here, for those who know her tale.

    And ohmigosh is Mabel’s narrative going to break some hearts. Mine, probably…

    Thank you, dear heart!

  7. the poem itself is strong, powerful, evocative of all qualities, both light and dark, the counterpoints and compliments embodied in all – and it is sensual, in a very unique way; as a piece read on its own, it’s delightful; as a compliment to the image of the doll – it’s fascinating.

  8. I did go to the book download and read about Mabel.
    Now I get the connection that was mentioned.
    .
    My favorite line: “I’m a blank book….write me yours.”
    … very memorable.
    .
    An amazing doll ! a wonderful choice for this post.

  9. Remember
    our first night?
    We’re ink-drunk…

    your hands wild,
    my hips starved,
    our souls lust.

    How a doll can provoke a lot of ideas for a lust in writing!

    Hank

  10. Firstly I have to say I loved the reference to Blake’s sick rose….
    Amazing how we both thought about thorns today.

  11. You have this marvelous trick of turning mundane words into beautiful images dripping with sensuality. Every time I read the word ink now, I have to go take a cold shower. ALL your fault, you wicked writer, you!

  12. The expression on the doll’s face is so tragic – such an interesting juxtaposition between it and your words.

    I love the stanza of direct speech – I hope you make that into one of your visual poems.

    • Rhissanna can sculpt such wonder into a doll’s face…

      I will be doing lots and lots of stitched poetry in the weeks to come, while I heal from another surgery, so… I will remember to stitch this bit. 🙂

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