Terse Verse Tuesday
title: Just Ice
pairing: Harry/Draco
rating: R
words: 260
warnings: psychologically dark; controlling behavior
summary: Harry can play champion, because when the day is done, his secret little paradise awaits.
Corner hooks pulling up his polite hammock smile
hang only by the steel of a secret. Sealed lips.
The sweat of his game is prostituted to the masses.
Quidditch fans, non-fans, paying watching probing--
shhhhh. No more sweat. Because at the end of the day
Harry can clean up and go home, because
the world that Harry and his hush-hush occupy
take up a small corner of the world of normal.
Gauzed with magic, it is safe from the bacteria
of the outside's Blood Quills. Sunning, waiting,
his Narcissus spin-off sits drinking just ice. Retired. What sense,
after all, are two Seekers, if one just seeks to be sought.
What sense is Imperio when he can stereo his will
in other ways, connections tendril one daffodil brain
tether synapse puppet strings, palms of social pressure swing
so easy, he can convince himself the little brain loves him
loves doing the things it does for him. Endorphin bride.
Man-wife Azkaban orphan prize.
Happy birthday, Harry.
You're a wizard, Harry.
The big world of normal is a few spells away, but Harry
and his hush-hush have unspelled a world of
cradled swaying luxury. Bleach sand seabreeze diocese
that the world outside cannot contaminate, they never see him
coming home to his tall white glass of iced coconut fizz.
It doesn't quite tttsssss like it used to, it's grown used to him.
When he holds the lip to his ear he can hear the ocean:
tide in, tide out. It can hardly count as sound.
commentary
Feel free to skip.
I don't think Harry is someone who has carefully and reasonably thought through what justice and injustice really are. It's all instinctual for him. Because of this, I think it's possible that with nothing "real" to fight against, Harry's drive for justice could potentially go twisted places. In the devastating emotional landscape of post-war Wizarding World, and the unrelenting, unwanted fame... it could push Harry over the edge. He might come to view the WW's demand for his attention as a Big Injustice toward him, and then "battle" this unfairness by constructing his own little reality, cut off from everyone else.
This poem really says nothing about Draco except that he probably felt very alone (Azkaban orphan implies imprisoned parents) and this loneliness is probably what got him into this sorry situation. A daffodil is a kind of Narcissus, so by saying things like daffodil brain and Narcissus spin-off, I was referencing Draco without using his name (the point is to de-humanize Draco in this poem, since that is what Harry is doing), but it works well also to symbolize Draco's fragile state. He is obviously being victimized in this scenario. If Draco isn't fully human, Harry doesn't have to confront his own injustices toward him.
Also, the title, Just Ice, is the word justice, broken.
Comments of ANY sort are appreciated. <3
pairing: Harry/Draco
rating: R
words: 260
warnings: psychologically dark; controlling behavior
summary: Harry can play champion, because when the day is done, his secret little paradise awaits.
Corner hooks pulling up his polite hammock smile
hang only by the steel of a secret. Sealed lips.
The sweat of his game is prostituted to the masses.
Quidditch fans, non-fans, paying watching probing--
shhhhh. No more sweat. Because at the end of the day
Harry can clean up and go home, because
the world that Harry and his hush-hush occupy
take up a small corner of the world of normal.
Gauzed with magic, it is safe from the bacteria
of the outside's Blood Quills. Sunning, waiting,
his Narcissus spin-off sits drinking just ice. Retired. What sense,
after all, are two Seekers, if one just seeks to be sought.
What sense is Imperio when he can stereo his will
in other ways, connections tendril one daffodil brain
tether synapse puppet strings, palms of social pressure swing
so easy, he can convince himself the little brain loves him
loves doing the things it does for him. Endorphin bride.
Man-wife Azkaban orphan prize.
Happy birthday, Harry.
You're a wizard, Harry.
The big world of normal is a few spells away, but Harry
and his hush-hush have unspelled a world of
cradled swaying luxury. Bleach sand seabreeze diocese
that the world outside cannot contaminate, they never see him
coming home to his tall white glass of iced coconut fizz.
It doesn't quite tttsssss like it used to, it's grown used to him.
When he holds the lip to his ear he can hear the ocean:
tide in, tide out. It can hardly count as sound.
commentary
Feel free to skip.
I don't think Harry is someone who has carefully and reasonably thought through what justice and injustice really are. It's all instinctual for him. Because of this, I think it's possible that with nothing "real" to fight against, Harry's drive for justice could potentially go twisted places. In the devastating emotional landscape of post-war Wizarding World, and the unrelenting, unwanted fame... it could push Harry over the edge. He might come to view the WW's demand for his attention as a Big Injustice toward him, and then "battle" this unfairness by constructing his own little reality, cut off from everyone else.
This poem really says nothing about Draco except that he probably felt very alone (Azkaban orphan implies imprisoned parents) and this loneliness is probably what got him into this sorry situation. A daffodil is a kind of Narcissus, so by saying things like daffodil brain and Narcissus spin-off, I was referencing Draco without using his name (the point is to de-humanize Draco in this poem, since that is what Harry is doing), but it works well also to symbolize Draco's fragile state. He is obviously being victimized in this scenario. If Draco isn't fully human, Harry doesn't have to confront his own injustices toward him.
Also, the title, Just Ice, is the word justice, broken.
Comments of ANY sort are appreciated. <3