Here, there be dragons.

The edges of the maps have been filled in,
the doors have been locked and the fires contained.
We are protected from rain, snow, sun.
I feel a crack, a fissure in my soul
which opens like a sunrise,
slowly and full of light.

Pink, blue, green toenails dig
into the dirt, mussed up and reckless.

Fingers grasp and claw at the borders of the page,
at the boulders that slip from mountains,
that are pulled from glaciers and the heat of the sun.

My body is built on the cusp of destruction,
and my maps still border with blank edges.

Here, there be dragons.


~Hammeh