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.