Her path across the garden
is from moonlight
moth-winged;
barefoot-firm she’s neither fragile
nor she’s fleeing,
she’s only searching luminescence
for her flaming flesh.
She knows his scent
of cinnamon and skin,
and traces this,
that reek of man,
towards the cabin
where he’s still sleeping,
not yet knowing,
the she will drink his blood.
Moth Woman by Luke Eidenschink
A 55 for Kerry at toads using the image of the Mothwoman by Luke Eidenschink.
January 5, 2018
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Oh my, a wicked moth. Love the mood, the images. It would make a great story!
Well, a girl needs to eat (and drink, too, it seems).
I like your take on this prompt, fun and dark at the same time. Do you mean for the ladtvkine to read there/that/where she will take his blood?
You’ve painted a vivid tale of a succubus’ midnight scroll.
Oh my! I thought at first it might be romantic but then that dark ending – a marvelously twisted tale!
Wow! that took an unexpected turn. I so wanted to infuse scent into my poem but couldn’t get it right.. I am so pleased you did it so remarkably well.
Scents are so fun to play with… I participated in a workshop with poet Moira Egan last spring, and she has made it her specialty of writing poems about scent…
Ooh, I was going to use that word ‘luminescence’, Björn! Such a delicious word, so full of light! I love the juxtaposition of ‘moth-winged’ and ‘barefoot-firm’, and the sibilance of ‘cinnamon and skin’ – and excellent way to describe a man’s scent. I enjoy a good vampire poem – it reminds me a little of ‘Let the Right One In’, one of my favourite films and I have the book, too, in translation.
Deliciously dark and enticing! ❤❤
I like the cinnamon skin……but cringed at the closing lines. Ack! Smiles.
Ooh, that dark turn makes it so enchanting and beautiful. Also, I loved that “scent of cinnamon and skin”, closely followed by “that reek of man”.
I know you have to do that thing you do, turning everything sinister toward the end, because it’s how you write. But I really love the first stanza on its own — it’s beautiful. In fact, I would enjoy it as its own poem, ending with “for her flame.” It would be a survival poem, as if she’s suffered exponentially but is trying to keep moving forward, always maintaining her inner and outer light.
this walks with a certain temerity, a slight trepidation, for the transformation, a thin and fragile as a moth’s wings, — NOT!
but there is a certain gentleness within the words, they softly beckon, entrance, and then wow – flip it! and we get burned, but hey, let’s be honest, enjoy it for the pleasures it offers, even if only as voyeurs.
I think you’ve combined so many different elements and aspects of attraction, desire, the light for the darkness, — this just makes for a fascinating story.
Gotta love the twist – who wants to read romance all the time?