Someone is here. A kiss through the screen. Mascara runs like period blood down her inner thighs. Stopping at her calves before she notices. Was this the first time? Scratches on her back. A foggy memory on a clear night. Lusting eyes. Leering. Charming. Meditative. Gleening.
Sparkles on the tips of blades. A viking screams. The wolves howl. The riverbeds are still. Dusk falls. Questions are asked. They were there that night, but where were you? I didn’t know about protective shields. ‘No’ was a heavy word – a word for loners and nerds. Dorks who played Dungeons and Dragons. There is my dragon. Here to protect me. He/She/They leave a key hidden for me. To break free, free from this cage – not locked in the dungeon. Lillies. Carnations. Dew-soaked. Fragile and forever. Pansies always make it through winter. Stems may break under the snow, but new stems grow. Purple whiskers on brimming petals unfurl when the time is right. We are still here they wink. You may not have seen us. You may have forgotten. Out-of-sight-out-of-mind protects us. Everything we do or have had done to us is on purpose. Intentional. Seek power in the silence. Resist the limelight. Your powers are masked behind closed doors. Mine is shut; waiting.
where rivers are born 