She Rides the Unicorn

 

Punishing waves like a storm-driven ocean,

De-speciate, deconstruct, disassemble.

Pain beyond blue

beyond red

beyond white.

 

Until

until she’s no longer of this world.

Life is the choices made.

For some, the choices made before the womb.

 

The sun, forever laughing

washes down on her,

painting her pure face.

Effortlessly,

she rides the unicorn.

White, pure, uncorrupted

as in the beginning

primordial power engorging her being.

 

Solid earth melts to marsh

Reeds greeting her,

touching, swaying, kissing her face.

Gossamer flows waving with her hair.

The beach

Sand like her flesh

breathtaking

the ocean mocks her beginning

Gulls shout her name.

 

The unicorn rears,

dropping hoofs to sand.

She leans forward

an embrace, patting.

“I think I’d like to go home now,”

she sighs,

apple lips caressing an ear.

Perplexed,

the unicorn shakes her primordial head.

“You cannot.”

“Why?”

The girl, her question breathed a million times

always to get the same response:

“You’re not real.”