Vachon Imagined

A king doesn’t need a queen.
He is her body.
He is her.
He needs no one.

The up is the down.
The down is the up.
The king knows this.
He stands in glory
Before glory has occurred.

He stands in symphony
Before a note has lingered.
Before a chord has fallen.
He knows the tone
Before it is spoken.

It is not his queen
Who is his bride.
It is his bride—
His own body.
His own legacy.
His own becoming.

A king doesn’t need a queen.
He is her body.
He is her fire.
He is her pulse.
He is her voice.