I need the words to
slide from your lips.
I’ve waited to hear
them shaped by your tongue.
By the flickering light
of one hundred candles,
oh, how I’ve longed for
the release you bring.
All night, you’ve
teased and toyed with me,
speaking the names of
other demons.
I’ve tried not to pout,
knowing my turn is coming.
Instead, I’ve watched
you tremble,
your eyes wide with
fear.
You’re irresistible
when you’re terrified.
I know, with every
story you start,
you want the feel of my
claws on your skin
just as much as I do.
Because as each story
gets told,
as each candle’s light
dies,
you hear my breath
behind you more clearly.
I am close enough to
tangle your hair with my horns.
You know your words
bring me ever closer.
And still you don’t
stop. Closer, and closer I come,
until you finish all
one hundred stories,
and at last, you are
mine.
Ao Andon by Matt Meyer
Song Choice: I Get Off by Halestorm
This poem was inspired by the prompt given at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads, Creatures of the Night and the work of Yokai expert extraordinaire, Matt Meyer (if you love learning about Japanese creatures that go bump in the night, his website Yokai.com, as well as either of his books is a wonderful resource). I was fortunate enough to attend a Japanese Ghost Story lecture he gave at Shofuso, (the Japanese House at Philadelphia) earlier this evening. So when I got home and saw this prompt, I knew I'd have to write about one of the wonderfully eerie creatures he spoke about.
The ao andon is a creature intimately linked with traditional Japanese ghost story telling parties from the Edo period. The well-to-do would gather in a room with one hundred candle-lit lanterns. For every ghost story told, one candle would get extinguished. Once the last candle was put out, the ao andon would appear, and the gods only knew what terror she had planned for guests bold enough to go that far.