Naps In The Library

I was given the following prompt: “Do what you want, when you want, however you want to do it.”

So I did.

And I had your winter,
brutal beauty savage,
calling
out a name I’ll not answer to.
I had it calling,
and I let it go.
Infernal prince slip through fingers
tight around the pen,
drumming on my skull.
It rang in my ears
and I let it go.
No regret came to follow,
and now I smile.
I look into the fire and smile
because I had your winter
and it did not chill me.
I had your winter
and I let it go.
I was your winter,
ice embodied,
and I walked into the fire.
I am free.

If my heart was made of paper,
you could hang it on the wall,
and if the wind did knock it over
it would make no sound at all.

If my heart was made of clay,
you could leave it in the heat
of an oven ever-burning,
and it’d be stronger than concrete.

If my heart was made of feathers,
it would be light as the air
so that when it took to soaring
you’d never know that it was there.

If my heart was made of crystal,
would you hold it in your hands,
or would you be afraid to touch
in case you didn’t understand?

Give me the world, and
I will show
you what it looks
like. Give me your
hand and follow me. Don’t
be afraid. Just place
one foot in front of the
other. I won’t ever
let you trip or
fall or slip, and
you can trust
me to hold onto
you forever. Give me
the world, and I will
make it better, safer for
you to dance. You have
lovely feet that make
no prints in the snow. Come
and follow me. We will
hold onto each other until
neither can fall.

(inspired by this post)

Play for me on a broken piano. Smile,
smile again when the crackling chaos
turns and twists in the floorboards, reaches
higher and higher through crumbling walls.
Your foot on the ground, a low, gentle tap
tapping against a stiffened pedal. Turn now,
and your fingers caress keys of broken bone,
dance along the spine and tickle my nerves.
Play for me now on your broken piano.