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22 October 2024  •  Creative Writing

Visions of Eidolon: a Poetry Anthology

“... I defend The Naked Truth of Dreams.”
Deborah Levy, ‘Beautiful Mutants’

By Olivia Litver (she/her)
Content Warning: loss, sexual assault, gruesome themes, gore
Visions of Eidolon: a Poetry Anthology

rib of a dog

A few months after His death

I had a terrible, terrible nightmare

That when they took my Dog away

(After they had stuffed Him in the freezer to dry)

They performed the cremation,

But not before they took His cold, hard body,

Sliced it open

And stole a rib.


In the glimmer of my dream

I asked my Mother for the ashes

(She had already scattered them)

And instead, she presented me with the bone

Casually,

As if she were handing me a cup of coffee.


I cried that night in my sleep,

And I cried to my Mother,

Her face blurred in the chill of my dream.

“Why have you given this to me?” I wailed and wailed,

“I don’t want this!”

I don’t want this.

“Take it back to Him.”

He needs it.


“But what of the hair that you cut from His head?”

She asked me,

“Won’t He need that?”


As I held the smooth bone in my hands,

The neatness and lightness of it struck me.


It felt like my heartbeat,

It felt like His breath,

It felt like a theatre prop,

And not the rib of a dog.

the tower

In another dream:

I was a beautiful young princess.

My hair was long and slippery,

Waves of fabric drifted down my shoulders and hips

And my head felt light

Without the weight of a crown.


I was stranded

Atop a very tall tower,

Locked away by an unknown force,

With the raging seas below me

My only escape.


Atop this very tall tower,

The wind pushed against the stone

And I swayed with it

How thin its structure was,

How horrific its design.


I was told in a vision,

By a woman who felt like my mother

(yet her eyes were far too foreign),

Or like my captor

(yet her hands were far too soft in mine),

That if I were to throw myself into the waters,

If I were to allow the foam to enter my lungs and eyes,

I would be rescued by a knight of the sea

And taken into the care of a faraway kingdom,

Where I would wed it’s prince

And live happily ever after.


In this vision she also warned me,

This was merely one possibility out of many

That could come from tossing myself into the screaming abyss.

However, I had few options

My only company at the top of that tower

Was boredom and doom

For erosion would eat at the base of the stone,

And the wind would shatter its spine,

And regardless I would eventually belong to the murky deep.


You see,

The prospect of eternal happiness and warmth,

The possibility of standing on stationary ground

After swaying in the sky for so long,

Was too great to ignore.


So I stepped off the tower.

I gave myself to the wind,

Which lifted my hair in its hands,

Pulled tightly at my gown,

And handed me over to the sea.


I drowned.

The salt scratched at my princess lungs,

My princess eyes.

My princess hands were claimed by sharks.


And yet I awoke,

Not in my bed,

But still inside my dream,

Staggering at the top of that tower.


Again and again I threw myself from that stone pillar

Once a sailor saved me,

Raped me,

And gave me back to the sea.

Once a band of pirates took me aboard,

Gave me a new name,

A new face,

And allowed me to rob and fuck alongside them,

Until I grew old and my legs were claimed by leprosy.


Once,

And only once,

I was rescued by the Royal Navy,

Pulled from the water by my hair,

Shaking and clawing at my own eyes,

Skin peeling in salty layers.

Stripped naked and given the finest of garments,

And presented in front of a young prince

Who saw beauty in my bluish tinge,

My wrinkled fingertips,

And took my hand in marriage.


He gave me a wedding,

A throne,

Children,

Until we grew old and died hating our spawn

For wearing our crowns

And counting our money

As we took our last breaths.


All of these endings,

All with the same beginning:

Stood atop that trembling tower,

The memories of each possibility above me,

Exodus seemingly beneath me

And in between the heavens and the sea I stand,

Head bent,

Knees weak,

Certain that no matter the outcome,

I could not continue shivering there,

Atop that tower.

the faun and my feet

A year after I last saw you

You came for me in my dreams.

You were stalking me down the corridors of my home

You held no weapon

You weren’t even chasing me

And yet I was petrified

Your scent was enough to turn my blood cold.


I hid under beds

In closets

Behind bathrooms doors

And your broken silhouette.


The grinding of your crooked spine

Followed me around my home

The sharp angles of your shadow

Stabbed at my eyes


The sound of your steps behind me

The clip-clopping of hooves

Ricocheted down the halls and around my tender head.


The light of the nightmare illuminated your soft, pale skin

The hair on your legs,

Your head

As light and fluffy as dandelions.


You laughed when you caught me, 

Fuzzy chin tilted up to the ceiling

Nails digging into my hips

You above me again

And again

Freezing me in your grasp.


That small smile

Filled with small teeth

Sickly white against your bright red face

Glaring into the putty of my skull.


You pulled a wicked cleaver from your pocket

And in an instant

You brought it down on my feet.

The pain was excruciating

Sharp and fierce

(a throbbing sickness in my belly

that felt all too familiar)

The sheer force of my own hot blood

Spurting from my ankles

Held me to the floor

Pinned in place like an ant trapped in syrup.


As I tried to drag the unbearable weight of my body away

I cursed the heaviness of my skin

My bones

My breasts.


You laughed and laughed and laughed

And I understood then 

That you had come back for more

That a part of me would forever belong to a part of you

And now that you had stolen my feet

I couldn’t escape you anymore.

I couldn’t run.


Check out some of Liv’s other creative writing on her Substack.

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