Lisa Kilhefner and Marie Kelly

Lisa Kilhefner

The Battle on the Farthest Shore
By Marie Kelly

Inspiration piece

The terror which falls from the arms of the moon
into the turrets of my broken tower
lashes across my chest a plume of steel and
carves its sacred crest
with flourishes of unspoken glories.

My fallen fortunes scatter about these
star bitten ruins
and I throw the rarest stone into the inkwell of sky
with its one silent eye staring down my shadow,
long and rich in caricature of this vague silhouette
the moon has cast
against the hard soil which I cannot escape.

From the forested alcove of the forgotten lake,
the waves are gnawing the greycast shore.
And the wind, with its whip in hand, chases sleepless gulls
and swallows my island and its secret waters
where serpents ride the swells into desolate places.

In a rage I climb the tower,
dragging my angry skirts
in the cinders of a dead fire of rotten things,
Scattering the ashes of my matrimonial gown
into the wide face of the moon which has silenced
the laughter which rung out like a bell
through this place
where we drank nectar from one another’s mouths,
stifling the joy so that we could swallow.


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