This is my poem for Magaly’s Witches in Fiction 2016. Check out links for all the other participants here.
Another day, another conversation
a social media thread
where the definition of reply ignores
that someone has spoken before.
She reads in horror
the unfolding of voices
speaking to speak,
not willing to hear.
Enough! she slams
the heels of her palms to her temples,
she wells her eyes,
she ribbons out of her ears.
crack out – out – out –
spreading their streams.
Floating, wafting, encircle the world.
A crisscross web of rippling glistening ribbons.
Whispers reach the ribbons, murmurs of desperation,
hear me, hear me – hear me!
Whispers and murmurs so loud,
so strong, so harsh, they
almost tear the ribbons to shreds.
Drops gently release
from the web of rippling ribbons.
Whispers feel the droplets
touching down on their faces,
seeping into skin
and the whispers quiet a moment,
just a moment,
then whisper stronger,
desperate, urgent –
you hear me.
I hear you.
Ribbons floating above
and droplets seeping into every one below,
the world unites in whispers and murmurs
and the droplets are joined by tears
seeping from the whispers and murmurs.
You hear me.
I hear you.
Your whisper does not threaten mine.
And back in front of her computer screen,
eyes squeezed shut flowing droplets,
ears streaming ribbons,
hands clutching her head –
for a moment she sees
a world of ribbons and streams and murmurs in harmony –
a blend of opposing voices –
and she resolves to be ribbons and streams
streams and ribbons
ribbons and streams
as long as she can.