Meth Widow When you first danced With the White Prince His touch was cold Lightning Sending it's crystals Through your every Vein and nerve Until a million Frost flowers Bloomed in your brain And you spun with him Across the glassy floor Faster and faster Your heart transfixed On the needle Of his cold enchantment Keeping you Locked in his arms Even as the glass floor Splinters And the shards of ice Cut through nerve and flesh You dance with death And cling to him As your body withers Your teeth fall out Your breath turns To corruption Your skin a torment You tear at With desperate fingers Trying to remember Who you were Before your demon lover Mary McCarthy This poem was written as part of the Ekphrastic Halloween surprise challenge. Mary McCarthy has always been a writer, as well as a visual artist and a Registered Nurse. She has been published in many online and print journals, and has an echapbook "Things I Was Told Not to Think About" available as a free download from Praxis magazine online.
3 Comments
Mary McCarthy
10/27/2017 06:50:18 pm
Thanks, Robbi!
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January 2021
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