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C18H13ClFN3 is the drug of choice

I.
Some facts and then other events
that never occurred:

I met some knights the other night.
Amour polished to a sheen, their brains, not so much.
They were going to save me, damsel
in absolutely no distress, from the beast.

Well, since they insisted. I hopped off the dragon
and watched, bemused, as they roasted.

II.
At its core, the knights’ code read:
Defend against the unnatural. (like dragon-girls
it didn’t need to say)

But they couldn’t in good conscience stab me dead.

III.
Amnesia bleeds green over these
thousand-thread count Egyptian sheets.
Calmness forced down the abyss,
pervasive green chasing out the memories –

red red red red
red rectangle white cross
red dot on a white ripple
red stripe over – over –

everywhere, calm
green waves crash on
the lands I once saw on dragonback
and no longer knew.

IV.
Raw concaves and scabbed over convexes,
needle marks, speckled sporadically over tan skin
like seeds on a watermelon slice.

A belated realisation –
it’s my arm.

V.
Much later –
What is ‘me’?

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