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Elisabeth Horan
The Pact
I lay face up
soap bubbles
tangerine-vanilla playthings
pop as i swish
pop as i swish
My hair; an aged mermaid grey
as a slate-mist horizon —
wiry 40-something strands
She crawled up along me, a refugee —
the H2O, too base for her,
an outdoor storm more suitable for survival
Arachnids only love the inner liquid of others —
the poison of the glycerine not unlike
the poison she injects — I allow her safe passage
I allow her full carriage
Class A travel of my femur, ulna, carpal —
She wants not a bite of me; blood of mine too fueled with Cymbalta —
the blood of her prey must yield viscose, translucent calories —
Mine, a chem-soup: Levothyroxine
and Buspirone, Wellbutrin tapers.
Enough, she-spider!
Let us rise up together,
Dripping like Eden —
I won't let you drown.
<< return to the Table of Contents for New Series #6: Winter 2018, Volume 3 Number 2 |
