New poem: Avalon

I've been a busy little buzzer! After all is said and done, I return to this blog with a melancholy poem. Eh, whatcha gonna do? I hope all enjoy.
----

Avalon

I’m thinking of a place,

bigger than a breadbox,

round like an apple with

bruises meant for

fingers and

gracious tongues.

They say its juice

holds the cure for many

post-industrial ailments,

but sometimes I

forget to believe.

I trekked there once

on accident.

I stumbled, and it

opened before me,

turquoise and orange like

a sunrise.

I tucked my large, fragrant

body in its grassy

bosom, slumbering while

branches raked grooves in

happy flesh,

a Shakespearean heroine

wrapped

in Titania’s dewy skirt.

Elephants lumbered

and the stars spilled their

milk into my

enraptured mouth.

I awakened some

time later, head

lolling on a rock, sand

coating my tongue.

My hair had grown

slick, oily.

River-carved canyons

dented my face.

I looked and

looked and

called and.

Some say it lies in

a forest, others

the sea.

So small, maybe,

so delicate and shy, the

growling of my belly

frightens it,

the pressure of my words and

want

rub the feathers

from its wing.

So vast I am

already lost

within.

I sit

here, motionless,

a rounded triangle, breathing

the fog, chewing

the air.

I remember the taste of

apples, the smell of

water.

My fingers grow blue in

the starlight while

the magnitude

of my body awaits

rediscovery.