No Defense

by Camilla Jean

The air was thick of slugs

and fiendish creatures

touching each other tip to tip

– a la  M.C. Escher –

no air between,

in some strangely imagined

and charcoal/white arrangement.

So, I grasped at my defenses,

but all of them slipped through my arms

and wriggled away, smiling,

slapping me on the chin with fin and tail as they went,

leaving me with slime and fur,

tooth and nail, smeared,

to dry upon my face.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: