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.