Monthly Archives: June 2013


Midsummer Eve by Edward Hughes


we sat together closely, hands
touching, arms and legs bare,

while fireflies lit the night
with their shy and brief flame,

looking for a match, for another
soul awake and alive, to share

the soft breeze, to feel summer
swiftly moving across the sky

I laid my head on his shoulder
and he kissed me, as the world

shone with possibilities, sweet
intoxications, love. All of our

blessings, our dreams and gifts,
are touched by angel’s wings;

our souls rush to the surface, in
recognition, in greeting, and the

whole universe shines within,
enchanting our eyes with stars.






his body, the sun

his body, the sun

blinds me with its brightness
heat rushes across my body
like a brushfire in dry summer.
I sculpt wings from wax, only
wanting closeness, knowing
all the myths, knowing how
it is that fire burns;

still I long to touch him, to
hold that light in my hands. I
would do anything to reach him
that fiery star lighting the world
within me, moving like ocean
inside me, making me blush
hot ruby pink under his gaze.

His lips melt against mine and
I sense the softening of these
sculpted wings. I will drown
in this desire, as insignificant
as Bruegel’s Icarus; who was I
to think I could pretend to be
anything other than mortal?

Originally published in Feather Lit

the tower

The Tower

He says he wants me to love him
from a distance, from a safe and secure
place. He wants me bound and locked
in a tower, my beauty a flower opening
only for his delight, his pleasure.

I don’t know what to say anymore,
words fail, fall and trip, stumble
into walls devoid of meaning, rejected
language hurt and wounded, naked
nouns and verbs stripped, leaving
only sounds and syllables, suspended
between thought and action

He hides his treasures, and I am his
dusty jewel, buried deep in the tangled
forest, lost in the labyrinth of a tortured
mind. Where is he? Not here, not here.
He leaves me no light, and no exit.

I fall deeper and deeper into world
upon world, my desire to create anew
his blurry figure rushes into the abyss
and I wait upon him, wait for him
to find a light in the darkness
I am patient as the morning star
burning, waiting for the break of day

I say: here is a story, once upon a time
and weave my long hair into braids.