untitled #3 -- poetry by Auri Eleni
think confession; think candle wax
gospel choir or a hand around my throat
how could i tell you that it was not sacrilege
but dread that shook my knees
in your temple?
eyes like stained glass windows
cracked open and turned to stone
this heavy mantle on my shoulders
bathed in the blood
of a stranger.
you’re spitting moonfire
antlers protruding from your neck
there’s a part of me that has always been afraid
of the stars reflected
in the silver brightness of your teeth
i loved you with an arrow in my back
dripping red; i collapsed
(bear body) left in pieces.
give me marigold meadows, mother
open asphodel fields
shattered steel lock on my heart
i do not owe you anything
you, with straw woven in your cornsilk hair
condemning the jagged rocks beneath your feet
beg for me back if you must
my lips smeared pink with pomegranate
crown dripping molten yellow
rotted ichor of the damned.
Auri Eleni is a student currently attending high school in Ontario, Canada. They love words and all things beautiful, and spend most of their time reading about faraway places, looking at rocks, drinking tea, or climbing trees in the rain. Their current favorite book is Everyone on the Moon is Essential Personnel by Julian K. Jarboe.