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Quintessential Title

Updated on September 10, 2016

The nymph

How curious it is just to be, just to exist within oneself and objective reality.

I frolic between the daisies and tip my fingers into the cow's milk.

The sun shines in my hair and there are strawberries everywhere.

A toadstool grows before me for me to set upon.

I arch my back to look behind me unto the fragrant ground.

The corpses of half eaten beetles here and there produce a slight stench not easily found.

As mother earth welcomes her children back she creates new like that astounds.

I press my finger to my lips in precarious wonderment.

The sight of the sky uplifts me so then I look down from my toadstool once more.

To the fairy kingdom does my mind explore, until I wake from a lucid dream.

Blue pollen of light lifts from the ground to my knee, sparkling for me to adore.

From my daze, do I wake again, but this time in a spider's court.

I'm bound and not too far from me is a sack of eggs on the spider's web adorned.

I am bound and in fright and reach a state of fight-or-flight. The mother sees me squirm.

And out hatches a little tiny one, free of deformities, with eyes just born.

I wish to screech but my mouth is covered, then a blanket is unwrapped from my body.

I am still asleep, just another dream, and my brother, the troll uncovered me.

I was tied from a blanket of silk like a tightly wrapped hold of Selene.

But coming to, I still could not wake up, and from the web I fell to the floor.

I never really woke, until there was nothing more.

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