Never should have come here

in the first place,

but it smelled so sweet.

 

Never should have come here

in the first place

but the sound it carried me -

 

To the field, n’eath the Sun

pickin’ fists, overflown

with baby’s breath and olive branch

I never saw him comin’ , No.

 

For I thought it was

the pounding of this heart

within my chest

‘til I was greeted with that beating closing fast and imminent.

 

There were hooves inside the Earth,

a rhythm, warning from within.

The screeching squeals

of wooden wheels

beneath a burning chariot.

 

Then, some monolith,

a figure, rose from clay and dust

‘til mine were met with eyes of ice, wanten and lascivious.

 

Behold! Dear Father’s brother

does baffle with that smile!

Yet, feral formed and fury filled

he drags me all the while.

 

And I saw black horses

and I heard the howling

of his hound.

 

Three mouths upon the single mount, that hellish mut from elder yarn. Barking, snarling up my scent,

the frost of fingers grip my arm.

 

Then, down and down

and deeper still, gaining ground

with every whip!

‘Til his cackling met his cracking

and my dress came all unhinged!

 

Then all at once, and from my grip,

a bouquet hastened its escape.

I blurry-caught those blossoms’ frenzied petals stemming in their wake.

 

And it was at this dusk

it dawned on me -

as Pluto loosed a pleased guffaw.

that my era with the Sun and Moon

was lost as I was lost!

 

And I saw black horses,

and I heard the howling

of his hound.