Bloodline

100 word fiction, creative writing, memory, non-fiction, poetry, scratches in the sunlight, Uncategorized

you dreamt this,

she said. i had

a trick involving string,

a snide loop, a special knot.

i had learned it from my dad

– seen it once in 1970 something.

 

every magician needs an assistant,

be they beautiful or a drunken old shepherd

with hoof coloured teeth and field hands.

but he had a clasp knife unfolded already

and you, you i wanted to impress.

 

the secretion of a length under the tongue,

quite snug by the gum, fooled everyone.

but he cut me by accident

and i bled roses.

and everyone clapped as i took a bow and swallowed and bloomed.

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