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In the enrolling darkness
I awake to life once more
Healing after you last left
Regrowing my heart you ripped out

I see you as you are now
The happiness and life in your eyes
The joy my suffering has brought
The remains of my heart filling your empty one

No more, life is now mine to command
To appear before you, the person you made me
While celebrating my pain with your demons
You stand shocked, the thought of me horrid

I stare into your eyes
Once a portal to paradise
Neither say a word, mutter a sound
A moment conflicted with history

I unsheathe my sword
A sword meant for the death of the devil
I drive it through your rib cage,
Puncturing your lonely heart

You stare once more at me
Blood filling your lungs
I reluct to shed a tear
Not for what was, but for what wasn't

I pull my sword out
Your blood now decorating it with honor
I step over your corpse
Warmer now then it ever was

A few places forward
Lies your new lover, a newer specimen
Around him your demons praising
I walk to him, waking him purposefully

He sees me, his last sight
A ghost from a distant past
I leave him to Hela, a ritual for her
The blood angel marks his fate

The demons I slaughter
Their words not but poison
Lies that fuelled an old life
Their corpse the foundation of a new life
The conquering of all the heavens and hells would not bring back that which I've lost.
Elaenor Aisling Mar 2021
His touch was
like sunlight on my skin
the sweeping skim of kelp across marbled coat
his webbed fingers tracking their rough edges
through the sand.
In the storm's howl he was calm
the chaos of waves in my belly slowed
an unearthly peace
of tide-pool eyes that stilled the seventh stream.  
The waves roll out and the waves roll in
and out my love rolls with them.
Seven tears shed at Spring tide
for love of a man
whose heart
is sea bound,
sealed.
Orkney Selkie Legend: http://www.orkneyjar.com/folklore/selkiefolk/ursilla.htm
medusa stands proud.
happy and proud and peace filled.
sisters in arms held for worship,
sisters in arms disappeared from grasp.

medusa stands small.
hurt and small and shame filled.
maidenhood stolen and high priestess to athena no more,
maidenhood stolen and cursed with protection.

medusa stands weary.
cold and weary and anger filled.
isolation has become her paradise of silence and stone,
isolation has become her graveyard of silence.

medusa stands tired.
worn and tired and sorrow filled.
awaiting the blow to her neck by perseus' sword,
awaiting the blow to end her suffering.
05. mars 2021
10:15 am
Kamilla Mar 2021
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
From the sweet laughter dribbling down your lips,
To your gentle eyes fluttering at dawn
From the way you gracefully pounce across the sea rocks
Gathering and sorting rounded glass—milky in color
The way the afternoon sun turns your hair to gold
Your eyes to deep, evergreen forests
Your limbs, like Icarus’ wings
Glowing, fragile,—temporary
My love knots tightly for thee, unslipping
However,
With every yearning glance, I worry you will wash away
Like the piles of creamy glass you once collected
Returning home to the ocean and her waves
Leaving me unmoving upon the shore
—gazing
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