Crown of Thistle

Once I dreamed I was a princess or

someone else important like a

priestess

and the angels took out my trash and

scrubbed my toilet. I dreamed

you were a prince or maybe a bounty hunter

who was

fierce, but also

gentle, who would wash my feet. I dreamed

you tracked down my nightmares, brought them

squirming

to my throne,

tied them to a pyre of pine

and burned them alive. I dreamed

we danced widdershins around the throbbing flame

with mint leaves

under our tongues and

silver beads about

our ankles.

But you were only a mechanic

with a milky smile.

You helped fix my toilet -the one

the angels never cleaned.

My nightmares still murmured to me with

lewd grins

from behind unburned wood piles

and shanty palaces.

They wore

my stolen crown of thistle.

 

 

 

 

 

About these ads

2 thoughts on “Crown of Thistle

  1. This is absolutely lovely. I love the rhythm and the comparisons. “I dreamed you tracked down my nightmares/brought them/squirming/to my throne/tied them to a pyre of pine/and burned them alive.” So, so good.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s