It is a long down from this dungeon fortress,
captive behind bars of fangs and smoldering dragon’s breath,
sliced open on the glimmering edges of his scales –
I placed her gently in an ivory tower, saved by chivalry’ sword
and shielded under my cloak and protected from the mighty
brutes and beasts lurking in the oceans and on the earth –
He stole my wings and stitched them onto his own back,
my flight stripped and swallowed by his gnashing jaw
and boiled in the fire of his belly, the heat allowing him to rise –
And she, the purest of the sexes, soft, porcelain, breakable –
exalted on her feminine pedestal, I bow to her, lifting her handkerchief
as if bestowing a crown upon her delicate forehead –
His dagger horns form a cutting crown, belying his total power,
he ruler of the earth, I, confined by his decree.
But he forgets that I, too, breathe fire from the matches in my throat.
© Copyright Samantha Rose 2018
You can catch more of Samantha existing at her blog, Existential Poetry.