be still, beloved

you, who beguiled with innate ennui

a damsel diminished, as a minor cord

you, who bequeathed absent turmoil

with tenderness, mercy

euthanasia to a cornered vixen

you, who baptized debauchery

instinctively, carving your initials

on delicate branches, of genetic code

hostile fugue flirtations, indelibly so

you, who brutalized a butterfly

with clandestine pheromones

be still, beloved

be still, be… loved

a. duncan, 2018




Featured artwork by Luke Kopycinski


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"She would fill endless notebooks with stories about the characters in her life, their impressions, words, friends, lovers, inspirations, fantasies. She spent her days dreaming up worlds where they fit together in visions; the if only, the never again, the someday. Those who knew her best would describe her as a creature with a clear and sometimes painful sense of herself; furious with ideas and convictions, to a point that she frightened love away with discernment and a relentless strength of character."

One thought on “beloved

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