Home Poetry The Other

The Other

by Stephanie Alfaia

Darkness spent all day
polishing his weapons, waiting
til nightfall, when he pours
liquid gold in and shoots it
into his parched mouth.
An unrecognizable curve
on his pink lips,
traces of oak barrel
hugging ice cubs…

Pneumatic figures dancing
under a tantalizing moon –
blonde, brunette, dripping in sweat.
His fingertips peel away the mask
clinging to their cheeks;
raw film glistening in red lust.
His fingertips trace the flesh
on the lower edge of their lips,
hungry teeth desperate for a taste.
His fingertips perform spells
under their skirts,
tracing self inflicted scars.
His fingertips crawl deeper…
seeking revenge on his inability
to resist temptation.
The other, his shadow to blame.
Liquid gold, he said, set desire

But morning always comes and
night vision gives way to grief,
Treason against faith.
His eyes blink open, sanity restored
remorse leaking from his pale skin.
A ‘good morning’
a smile, a kiss.
But trust swims in broken glass
and stained ramekins.

Have you ever tried to repair


© Magnified Reflections 2013
all rights reserved

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