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Our Fair Lady

Posted on November 10, 2019 by Torrey

Damocles, my Crossroad King, lay your blade across my shoulders again.

This is the price we paid:

Inflamed eyes and Stitched Smoulderings

of our greatest fears

clasped so closely to our hearts that we shed our clipped wings

and waxen scars

into keepsake jars-

scraping suffering into

fingernail beds so we can fashion

badges of pride to wear for her.

Share how many of her victories she has so wrought

We are our own moon-scarred demons of light and fears.

Builders of bridges we cross just to burn-

Additions to the great revel of She the Most High.

Cursed Reflections of the same coin-

different makes/

metals,

but tender all the same.

Her forge-fire-fingertips broke us,

molded us into a shape of her choosing.

Weapons for a War of Many Lovers,

with no destined end or winner

But we fought together

and have now lost together

Swords now ourselves, pockmarked and brittle

our clashes just fickle tidings from a monster we chose to worship,

the cracks just her petty laughs

given form.

All is fair in this as well, as

Even the greatest weapon seeks a sheath,

as did we.

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