When Absinthe removed her hand from the stone she staggered backwards, limbs uncertain., mind as cold and slimy as a dead fish. She dropped down on the sofa, only inches from where Lilith lay coiled. The scenario played through her mind still, it had seemed so real, whatever disconnect she enjoyed when watching television could not be maintained when fully submerged into the consciousness of those entities to which the tragedies were intrinsically stitched. Looking at her own bony hands there were no bruises to justify the pain she still felt. For several minutes her feline companion uttered not one word, understanding the fragility of her ward, to a greater degree than her usually arrogant manner indicated. Being of an introspective nature Absinthe had never come into such proximity with another person’s anguish, she had never known desperation of such magnitude and the concreteness of the experience dwarfed her mental abstractions. That woman was not constructing the walls of her own underground kingdom, her hell was nothing like the psychic ones that Absinthe routinely fashioned.


“Let’s try another one…something less painful….” Absinthe said, she would not break down here, not when she had such a singular opportunity to explore realms of the universe rarely exposed. “Suit yourself…” The Abyssinian shrugged but the renewed bounce in her step as she sprang from the sofa revealed her true feelings. “Why don’t you wait here…for a bit…” The cat said drawing the girl’s eyes and consent easily. Still within visual range the feline jumped onto the customer service desk, inquiring about each sensory stone in hopes of lifting the girl’s mood with a more affable narrative. While Absinthe did not speak of trauma to her, Lilith understood the nature of the young woman’s fractured psyche, understood that buried within her memories there were jagged edges that to grasp would be an act of self-destruction in and of itself.


“Follow me…” Lilith said guiding her charge to the other side of what was a large circular foyer lined with nearly identical rooms. In the chosen room the decorating scheme varied only slightly from the previous and only superficially through the color palate.”Well get on with it then…” The cat said noting the waif’s hesitation which was understandable given her previous experience but not relevant to the new one. Watching the feline settle precisely as she had done before, Absinthe placed her hand on top of the glowing orb and closed her eyes.


The first thing Absinthe was aware of was her bare feet against the damp earth and her long silken hair sliding sensually against her exposed arms. This body was more voluptuous than her own but these were well placed feminine curves the likes of which she had dreamed of possessing as a teenager and been forced to abandon hope of as an adult. Had she any control of her hands she might have touched the unbound breasts in order to know better this body which seemed so welcoming and soft. The sound of a voice reached her ears, a voice as delicate and ethereal as a humming bird’s wings, a voice that swept over her flesh like a feather, like sunlight, filling her heart and lungs with an intoxicating warmth. Was she the supernal songtress? Opening her eyes there was only an open sky flushing and orgasmic before her. The softening eroticism of a dawn the likes of which she had never known and if tears had been permitted her she would have wept. This was not the earth as she knew it, this was not reality as she had known it, and curiously she felt as if she belonged here, in this imitation of paradise.


She wore a simple white tunic, the material so light and transparent that she was scarcely aware of its presence and in regards to modesty it offered none. Alone in the wilderness she did not mind the sense of nakedness and certainly not the sense of freedom and power that that nakedness engendered. She felt joy in every fiber of her being and an awareness of self that did not make her feel self-conscious or confined but expansive. Her feet moved in cadence with a pulse that was not her own, a pulse summoned from the earth, from the soil held within her own bones. She danced as she had never danced, spinning her moments into a tangible silk web, into volatile waves of gold.


From the trees themselves, as if prehistoric wombs other women began to step forth, women dressed as she, beautiful women of varying aesthetes. They took her hands and joined her dance with the same abandon, their voices meeting hers not in competition but in harmonious communion. How could such a beauty as that which extended before her be considered savage? Were the trees not more welcoming than the large erect phallus’s under which people surrendered their souls? Was it not ego that needed to be tamed? Should nature not be left free and wild? Should not the human spirit likewise? Why had she rebelled so hard against the cages of others but endured resignedly the limitations she imposed upon herself?


As they danced Absinthe saw the very fabric of the atmosphere tear open to form a door that was itself without form. One after another the girls stepped through emerging into another part of the forest. Stripping off their dresses they draped them around the outstretched branches of accommodating trees and ran laughing into a lake with wind-like translucency. She followed, the laughter flowing from her body, a spell shaking free the sense of a separate consciousness.


(I am still having a lot of problems with my vision and that makes it hard to write (proof read) and focus so I am not really certain how this one turned out. Lots of Gelasic seizures too, aka laughing seizures which sounds fun but there really is nothing more horrifying then hearing your own hysterical disembodied laughter. Its hard to explain its something like being awake but immobile the moment before an autopsy pure terror. This particular seizure is usually followed by sobbing and an intense sense of loss/violation )

Submission for

We Write Poem


13 thoughts on “Absinthe and the Nymphs

  1. ugh…i am sorry for your seizures…i had seizures when i was younger and a violation def fits…oy…i like the story, pretty cool finding her self in that body, almost like out of body/possesion…but its more where she ended up that was cool…nice descriptions…rather magical

  2. I love this vision, how the reality with the forest and the nymphs contrast sharply with both the alternate reality Absinthe has entered and Absinthe’s own reality. Gorgeous, sensual imagery and gorgeous writing.


  3. I hope your vision is improving and I sympathize. I’ve had no less than a dozen eye surgeries over the course of my life and reading anything these days is a challenge. Just the same, hang in there kid. As for the story; I love the mix of sensual and visual descriptions, the writing is solid and the eroticism handled so well that it certainly held my attention, er, of several types. Ha! Anyway I very much enjoyed this interlude and it is somewhat reminiscent of Thomas Burnett Swan. Looking forward to more

  4. I visited your last verse first and felt I had missed something so I went searching. And I am glad I did.

    Thank you for your continued support. I hope for you less trama and ease of vision. Write when you can because when you do it is always worth reading.

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