my
D A N T E
The rung burned, burned like the fires he had left behind.
—eternity in Hell was not worth his pride—
The next: like ice, like the cold, stoic demeanor he had abandoned.
—the infinite inferno was not worth his honor—
This one, smooth as silk and just as slippery.
—damnation until Apocalypse was not worth the sound of the voice—
Now warm, like polished wood, like young, firm flesh.
—to be Lucifer's courtier forevermore was not worth a lover's embrace—
The last rung: sharp, piercing, like heartbreak—
—and yet, to be at the side of Christ was not worth abandoning Artemis.
:i:
For the af100 prompt 'ladder' and the drabble100 prompt 'touch'. Nominated for "Best Drabble" in the Orion Awards.
