raxeira: (got;; missandei)
[personal profile] raxeira
made Queen
-->this poem is written in response to 2 prompts. The first is to pick up the nearest book and look at page 29, choosing 10 words that resonate and can be used in a poem (the words are underlined here). The second was for the literary device of caesura, which is a fascinating and wildly challenging thing. I had fun with this, and it also drives me mad. All you have to do it pause when you see the parallel marks || while reading as usual.



“My love,” he says, || and she blinks at him
through dark lashes shrouding || her eyes as lace.
“What do you want?” she demands || but kindly.

The day is as warm || as the forges of the earth.
The hillside sits || near tranquil waters,
which sigh and lap || as he sits beside her.
The girl shimmers || in golden heat,
stripped to naught but the curls of her hair.
Her skin gleams tawny, || muscles flexing as she shifts
and rolls || restless with terrible beauty, || impatient for change.

The eyes of Pluto are blind || to all but her beauty,
inexorable and hot, || searing his heart
as he bends down || to kiss her.
There is a ring || threaded through her nose.
Her teeth are small || lips pink.
She smiles and || her nose wrinkles.
Despite her pounding heart,
she arches to meet him || and licks into his mouth.
He hums against her, || pulls her close.

“Stay with me || and I will make you Queen,”
he whispers into || the shell of her ear.
His breath is warm, || yet she trembles.
She sees the warmth || in his eyes,
and smiles || in lieu of reply.

“You have tamed me,” || he says lowly, for it is
a dreadful secret indeed || to have mastered the Lord of Death.
“There in no such thing!” || Persephone laughs.
She touches the pale scars || that run across her husband’s eyes,
and he smiles at her.

She considers the monstrosity || of his unpitying family,
who hate him enough || to damn him to hell.

“You are king,” || she tells him, “of the greatest
kingdom ever known || and I am your Queen.
We are connected forever || by more than vows. You are
wild and terrible, and || I love you more than life itself.
I will follow you into || the depths of hell,
just promise one thing: || never send me away.”

She twists beneath him || and wraps her legs around.
“My love,” he says again, || “I will never let you go.”
“You better not,” || she mutters against his lips.
Hades laughs and the day cools, || a cloud passing
across the sun || as his chariot comes,
dark horses || with pounding hooves
surging from the depths of the earth,
to carry the King and Queen || to their thrones.
 

 

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