She is Cometh by Abby Lee Hood

I see her and I know her
at once.
She has years and hair
and curves and commas in
her bank account. She has
things I will have but do
not currently possess.
She has flames and thighs
and lightning and wings.
She has power. Most
importantly, she has
patience and an
outstretched hand. I
swear to God I see her,
legs and locks and bare
feet on a throne of her
own making, forged of
sweat and dedication and
self-belief. Her palm is
soft but it is
open, offering a
hand up. A leg up. A word
of advice and
encouragement.
She offers love and
wisdom and asks nothing
of me but that I answer
the call. That I find
and secure and utilize the
building materials of the
throne on which she is
seated. I see her, and I
am in the throne room. My
hand pierces the veil of
time and I draw close,
hungry, blood in my nose
and dripping from teeth.
I see her, I worship her.
I am close to becoming
her, subsuming the mirage

and the myth until my
hips fill her ghostly
outline, and my eyes burn
like victory from her
sockets.

Abby Lee Hood is a Nashville-based journalist. She is currently diving into poetry and fiction to expand her horizons and lives with her hedgehog Noodle, and cat, Tom. She cares deeply about animal welfare, female empowerment and LGBTQ issues, being queer herself.

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