Tales of you and me

echo in the dark.

They lie dormant, lingering

in our depths beneath

our anger, resentment, mourning.

They have taken mythic forms

in the telling and retelling.

Pieces added, omitted, pieces diminished until

they lose their rigid shape.

Told for enjoyment and laughter,

to convince ourselves of a past

where we were free of jealousy

free of resentment, free of loss.

Like a bedtime story told

for children; fantastical and

whimsical. Lacking in fact.

Yet still we persist in

the telling of these stories and

hold them up for all to worship

in our temple. Setting altars,

lighting candles in hopes that

these figures might walk

among us once more

That they might appear and possess us,

affix themselves to our bodies

while the truth lies

hiding, in the dark.



Angie Velarde is a Latina fiction writer and poet from Northern California. In both fiction, and poetry, she loves exploring horror, fantasy, and magical realism.