This feels incantatory in the best of ways — the three knocks aren’t just repetition, they summon the piece into being. Each return pulls the body deeper, until language itself starts to sink and the voice gives way to sensation.
There’s a beautiful mythic murkiness here — snake and mouse, velvet night, rooted limbs — where surrender replaces agency without ever tipping into violence. It feels cyclical rather than linear, like something ancient closing its loop.
What stays with me most was the return: the spell broken, but the body still marked. That final image grounds the whole descent in lived sensation.
Ohh. And the way you took the prompt and extended it into this piece was truly spectacular, taking not just the description, but the feeling, embodiment and maybe residue of it too.
Okay, “a panting, sheet-tangled thing.” Ugh, yes. That’s exactly how those night-dreams dump you back into morning, like you’ve been running in place for hours. Mm... I had to stare at that last beat.
This is majestic! It sounds like something to recite during a nighttime ceremony, or interlude between power ballads on an album.
If I proceed with my eventual plan to make an "epic musical" inspired by Dead Poets' Society, I absolutely must convince Emilia to allow me to include this — as a spoken-word piece performed at one of those nocturnal convocations in that cave: where words echo, and dreams dissolve into incense.
The mouse, as she wears the snake, burns with a rapture never known to man. One... two... three knocks... and she is ravaged in her slumber! 😉
I did not know where this was going, but I’ve never felt so entranced. It was beautiful, mythic, and I almost felt myself sink into the feeling the more I read.
what a mesmerizing snapshot of the soul following the footprints of the mind. there is a powerful, palpable undertone of wanting to understand even more than being understood. beautiful work, emilia.
Thank you for the restack Mark! I’m grateful to you!
Welcome! Comment coming soon :)
Emiila,
This feels incantatory in the best of ways — the three knocks aren’t just repetition, they summon the piece into being. Each return pulls the body deeper, until language itself starts to sink and the voice gives way to sensation.
There’s a beautiful mythic murkiness here — snake and mouse, velvet night, rooted limbs — where surrender replaces agency without ever tipping into violence. It feels cyclical rather than linear, like something ancient closing its loop.
What stays with me most was the return: the spell broken, but the body still marked. That final image grounds the whole descent in lived sensation.
Dark, powerful, and deeply embodied.
Loved it!
Ohh. And the way you took the prompt and extended it into this piece was truly spectacular, taking not just the description, but the feeling, embodiment and maybe residue of it too.
Okay, “a panting, sheet-tangled thing.” Ugh, yes. That’s exactly how those night-dreams dump you back into morning, like you’ve been running in place for hours. Mm... I had to stare at that last beat.
Yes queen, its that transformation in the fibers of sinew that one only experiences when traveling between worlds❤️ all consuming
This is majestic! It sounds like something to recite during a nighttime ceremony, or interlude between power ballads on an album.
If I proceed with my eventual plan to make an "epic musical" inspired by Dead Poets' Society, I absolutely must convince Emilia to allow me to include this — as a spoken-word piece performed at one of those nocturnal convocations in that cave: where words echo, and dreams dissolve into incense.
The mouse, as she wears the snake, burns with a rapture never known to man. One... two... three knocks... and she is ravaged in her slumber! 😉
No convincing necessary, I'm there ❤️ I got you!
Rafa you just "get it"; I'm so grateful to you for reading and supporting me work! Thank you for commenting and sharing ❤️
You're "whelky." The snails say the same. 😉
I did not know where this was going, but I’ve never felt so entranced. It was beautiful, mythic, and I almost felt myself sink into the feeling the more I read.
I love this embodied poem!
what a mesmerizing snapshot of the soul following the footprints of the mind. there is a powerful, palpable undertone of wanting to understand even more than being understood. beautiful work, emilia.
It's always the unexpected three knocks that summon the hungriest of ghosts. Beautifully stitched 🖤🖤🖤