White Bear

White Bear

My love is a white white bear
during the day
and a prince clad in black black
grief at night
He tells me I must not
must not must not
see him
My love I yearn to see you
and I must not-
or the grueling grief will
have you forever
inside that dark dark castle
of the Wicked Witch

Three daughters I have given you –
three three three!
You took them all
and I allowed it –
to have this:

To ride you in the green sunspots in the
deep forest, your
silky white fur between my thighs
Your rumbling deep voice
reverberating through my womb and
Then the moment comes
when I cannot bear it
and
I
look
at
you
while you sleep

A drop of hot oil from my lamp
lands on your cheek
and all is lost

Into the mountain I must go
Take the witch  you now belong to
and
make her mine

Purge her through me

The troll-splint in my eyes…
Her wicked way of watching
How convincing
now MINE –
I stand beside you now
as black bride, stupefied and drenched
in grief
I am her and open my black bitchiness
and allow those rumbling agonies to rise up
into my heart
where I remember
– I remember –
our love

I lose my shining red batwings, and the
little skeleton in my belt
falls clang on the stone floor
My pointy hat becomes a bat who
turns in to a “What? Really! Enough of THAT!”

My witch dissolves in dust and you
start to giggle – a fountain of
Light springs up from your spellbound heart
The black claws around it fall to the floor, and
there! Are our three daughters
dressed in white silk bridesmaids dresses
with hems of white fur

You turn to me and smile your true prince smile
and as we embrace I sense
the deep thunder rumbling through me

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Please note that nothing written here is intended as medical advice. Readers who think that they need help with a physical or psychological condition are advised to seek a qualified opinion.

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