Hey, friends! Rhiannon here before this (extremely short) excerpt. I like to share my writing--I think it helps build up my nerves in sharing (#ArtistProblems, am I right?), and my writing style in hearing others' input--but I've decided I don't want to put full works up on the site. Firstly, I have MFA applications coming up soon that I'll be using some of them for; secondly, though this is but my small corner of the internet, I don't want to chance someone stealing any of it. I'll keep "The Neighbors Called It Weak" up in full, but, anything else, I'll only be posting a paragraph or two of. With that said, enjoy this! :)
i – fairy
If gentility and submission was your only goal, then why did you create us with a spark? A face so pretty does not deserve the power of the world, you say, burdensome and arcane and new. We see ourselves reflected in the aquamarine of Paradise: we see the cheekbones of porcelain and the wide, dewy eyes, the flowing hair and the gentle curves of our bodies. We see what you see, of course, something like an angel and something like a dormouse. But you cannot see what the waters show us, too. We see the magick, a power that builds from our womb and traverses our veins, a power that permeates the very beings that we are, a control that infiltrates our very minds and hearts. There is a wisdom, yet unreachable and forgotten, that floats somewhere between our body and our soul. Creation resides there, allowing us to bear the unbearable and come back stronger, smarter, more loving and more fearsome than before. You see the angel, and you think there is no more. We find the demon, and we know there is much more. We are more than light; we are more than dark. If you wished us to submit, then why did you raise us with this power?
And why, if you are so powerful yourself, do you feel the need to quash it?
© Rhiannon Ling, 2020
Cover photo courtesy of atticuspoetry.
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