Poets Anonymous Ink: The World & all her Inhabitants

from The Light Seer’s Tarot – Death & Rebirth

You told me I was a monarch. I thought you meant

Queen.

You talked of chrysalis and metamorphosis (words I committed to heart because of their beauty on my lips but also because a thesaurus never has enough words for change).

You told me that you would plant milkweed in every garden (carry seeds in your pockets

just in case).

I think of change and remember the night we drank beer in an empty bar, paint splatters dripping down the wall. Smoking hash from a pipe, eating chili from a pot, and drinking whiskey from a flask.

When he hugged me, I felt certain I’d visit Wonderland again (but inhaled his stale cigarette cologne

nonetheless).

But he promised changes, sincerity in his black-brown eyes. Didn’t he know I was the queen of changes?

(Even hearts could betray us for thirty pieces of silver.)

Mutable was my name. I was a poem penned in dust written on water.

For years, as a child, I dreamt of incomplete transformations. Naively, I scribbled about familiar strangers, so when a creature from another galaxy (Saturn rings around his pupils) greeted me, a rush of hiraeth flooded me.

I thought I’d fall over from the sheer gravity of it all, but the only constant I’ve found is we’re constantly in flux (perpetually changing). We’re like a mad assortment of Euler’s disks — spinning, spinning,

spinning.

The changes in who I was and who I am are monumental, but all I hear is the fluttering of kaleidoscopic wings as I set forth for a galaxy where I can inhale and exhale

freely. Not under the watchful scrutiny of the world and all her inhabitants

because change is on the horizon yet.

from The Light Seer’s Tarot

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