i wandered in the forest, as so many hopeless do
despite the warnings of the wise
and found myself tracing the world
fingers ghosting over leaves and foxglove blossoms
as the woods grew dark around me
and the moon seemed to shy away from my path
when i stood still to search for it, what i found instead was her
standing tall enough to choke the light
and yet almost like a flame
bloodied flowers growing from her chest and covering her ribs
and antlers stretching from her amber hair
"i am", she spoke, "the patron of dreams just barely forgotten
the echo of a memory straying further away
the more you strive to keep it close"
a flutter between us in the silence
a moth
landing on her skin
and attempting to draw blood
where it sat, a new flower spread
swallowing it whole
my head felt heavy as i swayed
slick sickening warmth coating my teeth
i fell to my knees and as i did
my eyes met the leaves and dirt below
but where before there had been sticks and wood
i saw bones littering the earth
"it is a shame", she said
over the sound of the forest stirring
twisting with displeasure at my discovery
"you were as beautiful as you were lost"
Once again, no moths were harmed in the making of this poem. I think.