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.