This poem serves as the framework for my upcoming collection She the Impossible Thing. 


I will call her Calliope

Stardust settled on dewdropped skin

Mesmerized in wonder. She, divine constellations.

I, the tuppence sunk in wishing wellwater.

O, for all that starlight rippling at the watertop

Enshrined in roots and stone, I bathe in her glow.


I will call her Sylvia

Jasmine and laurel, wreathes of lily petals

Spellbound elemental. She, enriched sediment.

I, the seedling sleeping in breathing earth.

O, for all that warmth wrapped ‘round

Entombed in womb of rebirth, I am stayed Lazarus.


I will call her Felicity

Wildfire churning through artifact underbrush

Shaman smokesignals. She, tireless wind currents.

I, the sunburnt airborne leaf whirling in white ash.

O, for all that rhapsodic weightless heat

Emblazoned each spectacular freckle, I ignite at my edges.


She is called by many names

The lovely fantastical ones, satin gowns and silver charms.

I, the dreamer of impossible things. She, the impossible thing.

O, for all that mysterious magickal ether

Served in crystal wineglasses, we rim-clink damned elixir.