CW: light body horror

Tea With Leonora Carrington

...then I saw the Minotaur sewing dolls’ clothes. In the mouth of the riverbank there were orange feathers.
It is about worldmaking, said Leonora Carrington whilst brewing tea. Later, she took Ernst’s skull from her panty drawer and introduced us. He looked sleepy, as if he hadn’t dreamt from quite some time.
While drinking tea we talked of illusions we cling to like marriage. Comfort is a feathered animal, said Leonora Carrington, patting me on the shoulder.
We all are collectors. When it’s the right time for you to free the bird, you will know.

The horse

I am sexually wonderful like a horse
Joanna Ruocco

When the horse with a violin in its mouth first appeared under my mother’s window and started to serenade her, my grandfather knew that summer was nearing its end. He understood that to ward off rumors he must hurry and marry off his daughter to the first-come.
My not-yet mother was aware that in due time she would give birth to a girl. She sensed that the heart of her daughter would be inhabited by horses and other free-roaming animals.
When the son of the miller asked my grandfather for my mother’s hand he was pleasantly surprised that his proposal was accepted without delay. Rumor has it that my mother never loved the miler’s son and never wanted to marry him, even if he was madly in love with her. Apparently, she never forgot that serenading musician-beast.
I, on the other hand, have no musical talent and was born two years after my parents were married. For all that, a recent lover told me that sexually I am as beautiful as a horse.

Little known facts

One day the red knitted dragon — the one I will buy five years from now for my, as yet, unborn child — leaves our home, climbs the apple tree and takes up its position between the highest branches.
Any time the wind blows its head speaks the truth.
This is how my husband learned about the secret pocket, sewn beneath my skin, where I keep my wet dreams. This is how I find out that he feels jealous of the postman. This is how I discover how much he gets paid. This is how our neighbor hears the name of the robber who, one day, will steal his car. This is how my mother catches a line from a poem I wrote about her and learns that I still haven't given up my childhood dream of becoming a poet.
This is how I find out that beneath my eyelids there is a whetstone and two knives.