Page 9 of Serpent & Saviors

He rubbed my back as I laid my head on his shoulder. Inhaling him up close had a soothing effect on my jumbled nerves.

“I’m sorry. I think I’ve ruined the date already. I’m pretty sure one of the rules I read earlier was not to get emotional,” I said, pulling back, feeling foolish.

“We’ll let it slide this time, especially since I’m the one who started it. It looks like they’re getting ready to begin,” he teased and held my hand.

The warmth of it and the moment we’d shared lingered. My breath hitched as a hush settled over the room. The emcee took the stage, tapped the microphone, and offered a welcoming smile. Person after person went up and bared their hearts and souls.

I lost myself in the creativity that flowed from the stage. I was so inspired by the bravery and felt a tear fall after the last person spoke about the heartache of losing someone they loved. The look in Andrew’s eyes when they met mine told me he’d felt it, too.

“That’s all the scheduled poems for this evening. We’re opening the room to anyone else brave enough to share. Any takers?” The emcee announced.

“How about it, Victoria?” Andrew looked over, his blue eyes sparkling.

Somehow, they made me feel brave. I gulped, thinking about my mother and gran, how much they would have enjoyed something like this. The poetry pieces tucked away in my journals back home were ones I had memorized. I thought about how I’d never have this opportunity again. Could I?

“You don’t even have to come up. I’ll bring the microphone to you,” the emcee said, walking toward us.

Heads turned our way, and I looked over at Andrew. He studied me. The chatter and clicking sounds of cups and glasses sounded all around me, making it hard to concentrate.

My palms grew sweaty, and my heart raced. I closed my eyes and imagined a tiny dancing mouse. She’d been so brave the night of the rescue. It wasn’t like she had a choice to dance, not really, but despite the pain, she gave it her all.

Maybe in her honor, I could do something similar. Shakily, I took the microphone from the man, nodded, and stood. Clearing my throat, I dug deep to find an inner strength I didn’t know I possessed.

Seasons come, and seasons go,

weaving the fabric of time.

And no matter their distance,

they’re forever intertwined.

Hidden away, a castle sits,

in a faraway land.

Come listen for a spell,

and I’ll try to help you understand.

Four distinct animals sit on an old carousel,

Bound to the turn of a merciless spell.

Spiraling seasons, they rise and they fall,

Trapped in a nightmare with no end to it at all.

Upon the Swan, with a fierce embrace.

Sits a young girl, misunderstood, hiding her face.

On this merry-go-round, she silently cries.

Contemplating last night’s choices,

as more of her dies.

Today I imagine her smiling,