Bathtime is for make-believe.
My knees, the Cliffs of Moher
jutting above a kyanite sea.
I shave seaweed from my skin,
its tangled tendrils hold
secrets not meant for men.
Above, the Hag’s head nods,
she does agree,
man’s a creature of pure trickery.
A mermaid without a cloak
lounges on my landslip thighs,
dips her tail in the aquatic yoke.
We’ve learned to bide our time,
wedding and bedding, but ne’er forgetting
one day we’ll find
our stolen magic stoles.
Slip into them, and then the wider sea
to swim free amongst the selkies.
© khartless 2022, All Rights Reserved
Artist: Dee Mulrooney
Visual Verse: An Anthology of Art and Words
One image, one hour, 50-500 words.
The picture is the starting point, the text is up to you.
VOL. 09 CHAPTER 03