by Jess Morrigan
I am the devil dealer, people pleaser,
Who laughs and jokes,
Commits to the bit until
I gaze, not knowing what’s real,
Into the shards of all the mirrors I’ve broken,
With a stubborn rebel’s fist.
I guide a boat against the current,
Fighting tooth and nail with the water of a
Lonely moonlit road.
Cursing the water when it will not yield,
Envying it for knowing which way to go.
Ashore, I play with the fires
Of figments and half-truths,
Like children do, pretending to smoke
In the cold December air.
But this time, in that smoke-like song,
Dreams are born, sculpted from hands
That forge worlds into being.
Here the answer lies:
In the ecstasy of creation,
I caught a glimpse of my reflection,
And the spider of my shame
Wove webs of blood across the glass.
I left the pieces there, took up my oars
And bore myself back
Ceaselessly
Into the past.
Jess Morrigan is a young queer poet and aspiring sci-fi/fantasy author living in Salem, Oregon.