The Story that the Small Thing Tells
Back in the fields that I came from,
I danced with a deer mask on.
I was a brave and bloody thing.
I was full of teeth and tongue and tendons
And when the red sun rose,
I was realer than any animal,
Realer than the cows that watched me
With eyes like tapioca pearls.
Realer than the pigs that would eat my body,
Given the chance.
I want to haunt
Old buildings in the dark again
With the sound of my stomping.
To become the animal-god
That could eat my tiny body
And forget it ever knew
How to be afraid.
Eloise lives in Southern California, where she talks about the middle ages, plays tabletop games, and tries her best to be a writer. She hopes to one day live beneath a bridge, asking travelers one riddle before they cross. She also studies literature.