Mila van der Have

Winter 2024 | Poetry

Hauntology

 

                                                I want a dragon to be a girl

                                                and all my girls ⏤ dragons

 

            fiery and dislocated

            from the true north

 

                        of their saline hearts

 

and when it rains it angers them

for now they have to hang back     in the desperate caves

of the body once known

 

                                                            (ah yes the body;

                                                                                    the green velvet regret

                                                                        of the thing captured

                                                                        at the wrong moment

                                                          and the angle is off)

 

and yet, and yet

there is so much dreaming to be done in the dark

in the abstinent landscape of the unreal

that lets them forget the monsters they are

 

            where talons reach into the devastation

                                                                        of the absolute

            as easy as picking an apple without it having

                                                                        any meaning at all

 

                                                                                    other than to be free

                                                                                    of what haunts you

                                                                                    in the silent bleachers

                                                           

                                                                        of the mind

 

                                                            (that drags them

                                                            like vacuum cleaners

                                                across a carpet)

 

forgive them they know not their claws

nor the art of letting go of

what has dug    their wings

 

            in them, yet they know its slithering

the leather prophecy    (to return what was

stolen to yet another thief)      

 

            creasing itself around them

            fur-like as the forest but

 

not the broken

 night they

                                                unfurl

                                                            to be

Milla van der Have is a Gemini. She is the author of 3 chapbooks. Her latest collection Ox and Mandarin | Wayfaring Strangers is published in English by Dancing Girl Press and in Spanish by Ril Editores. Milla lives in Utrecht, The Netherlands. She is the host of Poetry Lit!

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