If there were an incantation I could use

Sigils drawn on black flagstone

Or blood at dawn on a granite slab

chants of words forbidden that stab the tongue and burn the throat

a rattle made of dragons’ eggs, powders

and potions of ground unicorn and gryffin hide

the mandrake’s cry, the faerie’s kiss

children drowned in nightdark springs

warriors hung by the neck from the Tree of the World

demons clashing their fiery hooves and thrashing their dread horns

the very peals of armegeddon behind their gnashing teeth

What a spell I would weave!

I would then call down the moon and sun

plait them into a Beast fit to

pluck the breath from a weeping mermaid

and spittle from a rose

Folded once, twice, thrice

become a blade

dipped in the fire of a young man’s passion

annealed in the tears of a widow

And send my Beast forth so armed!

To bring me your heart at least,

if not the rest of you.