fiery seraphim

September 26, 2020


when the moon reaches for the clouds
i remain a flame lit for only her

fear is an unbounded rabid dog in the face of rotten flesh
hers is that—only worse. she may seek and seek in the depths of my flares.
she will find nothing but smoke and charred skin

her agony reflects from the looking glass
[my light can only deceive so much]
the silver glass thinks itself smart
truth does seem better than candlelit lies

I’d like to tell her there’s no gospel truth
                tell her even the dead dream
a parody of the poem ‘Mirror’ by Sylvia Plath in the viewpoint of the candles.


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  • September 26, 2020 - 8:39am (Now Viewing)

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1 Comment
  • Paisley Blue

    oooh that ending sends shivers up my spine!!! I loveeee this piece!!! <3 <3 <3

    4 months ago