Its talons clutch at my guts, folded wing-points pinion my diaphragm, arrow-head tail flails my entrails, razor-toothed jaw jams into my throat. Its hunger leaves me no room for food. Its breath scorches into my lungs, its heat broils and roils in all my body-s passages. Already I hardly know air from fire. My insides melt, are smelted into scales; my skin is sucked within their emerging armour, my joints turned inside-out in clawed limbs. Wings unfurling thrust through my shoulder blades, shudder open with a thunder-rush that frightens the sky. My lengthening neck twists and gryrates in its armour plates until my head is free. Opening my mouth to its embered depths I fling out my first roar of flame.
*first appeared on the author’s blog at thebelatedwriter.wordpress.com.
Susan Jordan has an MA in Creative Writing from Bath Spa University and writes both poetry and prose. She has had poems published in several magazines and anthologies including The Journal, South, Obsessed with Pipework, Prole, Snakeskin and the Agenda online supplement.