Life, Poetry, Writing

A Curse of Curves

A curse of curves ties my hands behind my back;

twists my ankles together,

leaves me gagged in an attic somewhere.

Men of varying pedigree climb the stairs

to rub my lamp-like hips

and whisper their interpretation of affirmation,

willing these chains off for at least a moment,

to take for granted a wish.

 

— Janine Serioux

Advertisements
Standard