Protesters, by Alex Corscadden
the enemy is storming the castle.
standing on the battlement,
we are watching the legions of knights
that draw closer by the second.
the goblins scattered among them
are chanting as they march.
at the head of the troop
a company of dragons swaggers,
so near now that they threaten
to set the drawbridge alight.
the army divides,
revealing a cannon at the back
that is aimed directly at us.
we can no longer attempt to deny
that there is no escape,
and yet i fear nothing
because you are here
and you are holding me;
your arms are my fortifications
and no matter what happens,
i will not come to harm.
thousands of years from now,
when the archaeologists discover our remains
buried underneath the rubble,
they will not care if we were male
they will analyze us for information
about our culture, our history,
our way of life,
and they will know that we loved
from the way our bones are intertwined.