killeress

 
she steals the nights & locks them in a steamer trunk, to be filled
with a lover when he comes, & the wild, wayward dance of amour.
but night is ethereal, unkeepable except in memories. they evaporate.

she reads my history in the scars on my face, & lays it out like a
bitter memorial.

‘these things I know: you were a soldier & they sent you to a bad place.
in the bunker, you pondered as the mortars exploded. you smoked
your cigarettes & wondered how it would feel to kill a man. you
thought you were afraid; you don’t know what fear is!’

I wanted to speak, but I didn’t have the words to combat hers. so I
smoked, & listened to her story  –

‘I lived with a man who was Shakespeare’s cruel Caesar. he was brutal
when he got drunk, drinking every night. he used a woman for abuse &
for sex. I would lie there in silence, my eyes filled with tears, & make this
prayer in my head: let him finish quick, so I can crawl out from under
him. let him finish quick.

I crusaded the house, every closet & alcove, till there was no room in
which I could hide. one night I wrapped myself in a cloak & ran.
where the shadows are most obscure, there I will go.

if love takes a human form, then anoint me assassin. I would not look
in its face, & I would kill it.

now you’ve come, calling yourself desperate, telling me I must hold you
hard when you get like this. your kisses teach me French, your hands
are brave on my bruises. we will vanish in the legion of the lost,
where the lonely go.

you can’t hurt me, because I’m done with hurt.
call me wanton, then, & take me.’

she’s tall, as tall as desire. I see raw passion, from her hair down to her
feet, & I know  –  it’s her body I want.

every man is cruel for a woman like her…


(Art: Rayment Kirby)