sorcière

by Megan Chunn

Monet, Van Gogh, or Pissarro would recreate the beauty that I see.

The ocean at night, bister waves rolling towards you as the wind howls over the dunes of sand. The movement of your hair is apparent, but the locks are sitting still.

Rough green snakes encircle the inner workings of the yellow-water lily resting upon white orbs, complete with hints of golden tortoise beetles. Observant eyes noticed each movement of mine.

Arched over a wide southern backroad, her upper lip rests as if it were trees placed years ago, the plump, fig-like lower lip, partially bitten by her incisors, then parts. Ready to be plucked and consumed.

My uneven teeth graze and tug at the fig like a suspicious yet starving feral being, continuing forth to devour you, I slip my maroon tongue through.

Your hand wraps around my jawline, the kiss thrusting us into one. The weight of your body melting atop mine. My mind whirs, feeling nauseous, as my soul is abducted.

Photo of Megan Chunn

BIO: Megan comes from a small country town in the south, she has a graduate degree from UNCW, a published poem, and is a lesbian. Her life experiences allow her to have unique perspectives and along with her bipolar diagnosis; she feels things deeper or rather more extremely than the average individual. In her free time she reads, writes, and cross-stitches. She owns a husky named Yogi and a cat named Dovah.