Wings

Two of my closest
friends are dragons.

Tichar and Draco.

Death-dealing, multi-colored
vigilante twins from Hell.

Tichar:
Dark, fierce, unrelenting.
Draco:
Brooding and unforgiving.

Together we ride the night wind, my
two-wheeled demon bike breathing in
their airbrushed living colors, fused to
my polished steel and chrome.

My dragons are not much for words,
but we have an understanding—
when I ride I scream their names
three times, each in succession. . .

In return they spit fire, growl
and curse my birth, surround me
with their wings, swallow me whole
and scream my name,
three times in succession--
then smile and split the sky,
show me just before I die,
what it is to be a god.

Joseph Roque, was last seen in the woods of New England, seducing nature and gathering words in glass jars. Most recently, his poetry has appeared in Silver Wings Magazine, A Tender Touch and A Shade of Blue, online, and is forthcoming in A Long Story Short, online; RagMag.org; Zygote in my Coffee.com and EMuse-Zine.com

Find more by Joseph Roque in the Author Index.

Comment on this story in the Aphelion Forum

Return to Aphelion's Index page.