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Yours Truly, the Devil Dealer

by Jess Morrigan


I am the devil dealer, people pleaser,

Who laughs and jokes,

Commits to the bit until

I gaze, not knowing what’s real,

Into the shards of all the mirrors I’ve broken,

With a stubborn rebel’s fist.


I guide a boat against the current,

Fighting tooth and nail with the water of a

Lonely moonlit road.

Cursing the water when it will not yield,

Envying it for knowing which way to go.


Ashore, I play with the fires

Of figments and half-truths,

Like children do, pretending to smoke

In the cold December air.

But this time, in that smoke-like song,

Dreams are born, sculpted from hands

That forge worlds into being.


Here the answer lies:

In the ecstasy of creation,

I caught a glimpse of my reflection,

And the spider of my shame

Wove webs of blood across the glass.

I left the pieces there, took up my oars

And bore myself back

Ceaselessly

Into the past.

 

Jess Morrigan is a young queer poet and aspiring sci-fi/fantasy author living in Salem, Oregon.


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