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The Mage



Some women dream of Prince Charming

coming to their rescue

adorned in glistening armor

Building them their very own castle

encircling that castle

not with a moat

but with a white picket fence

protecting their kingdom

as they live happily ever after.


Meh.

Been there. Done that.


I've dabbled in fairy tales

I need no castle

and I disavow any man's fence

I can and always will be

my own hero.


No, I dream of the broken man

beneath the armor

returning from battle

bloody and bruised

as I nurse this wounded warrior

back to health.


I give him safety

a place to rest

a place to heal old wounds

without pity

or shame.


I am not his damsel in distress.


I am the enchantress

I am his mage

showing him all that he has

yet to conquer.


We plot and we plan

for the adventures ahead

Some days

riding off into the sunset together

Some days

embarking on adventures alone

But always connected

always rallying

for the other's victory

and celebrating every return

home

where we can remove our armor

and lie naked

basking in the glow and the glory

of the adventures we've seized.

Spent.

Sweaty.

Satisfied.


Every return

a new happily ever after.

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