By Alexis M Davis

(From CHM Issue #2 August 2020)

Gases of Delphi drift through my unconsciousness.

Through my skull they work their black magic,

Tilting my perception.

My head falls through sleepy soot past the realms of the awake.

I enter Apollo’s realm. Or is it Hypnos?

Is this Cassandra’s foresight, or a sleepy lie?

She was there, my lover, my dove.

Graceful steps she takes, among lake pebbles,

Moonlit and streaming the length of my mind.

The water parts for her, curls high above our heads,

Like Moses’ biblical sea.

Was she, is she, a religion?

Her hair forms familiar messy halos, drifting in moonmilk white,

Shining like pearls do, glimmering at the bottom of a tumultuous water.

She hits me full force. She was running.

No, swimming. The water falls around us and we are swimming,

We are lovers, swallowed whole.

Is this power hers, or mine?

Now we are merpeople, mermaids, tangled seaweeds.

Fins for our legs and scales refracting rainbow hearts along the seabed.

She sings a siren song, the death march of men.

I am immune to its power, but I draw closer still.

Siren or no, I swim after her.

I follow her into the depths of the sea of my secrets.

Comments are closed