The body is a spell. Ten fingertips,
magicians, disrobe their damoiselle — slow,
while he is sitting, puppy, restless, nips
at black pointe shoes. Your finger tells him no.
Obedience he’ll choose. He won’t require
a potion. Vertebrae compel. Observe
over shoulder, stoic but his tell: two fires
that smolder inside pupils. Heat he deserves
for shrinking — even thinking you are small.
Your body is enchantment he didn’t see
at all. You indicate the floor. He crawls
towards a doll vibrating sorcery,
below rotating, naked piqué turns.
Each kiss, even a pointe shoe, he will earn.
Kristin Garth is a Pushcart & Best of the Net nominated sonnet stalker. Her poetry has stalked magazines like Glass, Yes, Five:2: One, Anti-Heroin Chic, Former Cactus, Occulum, Luna Luna, & many more. She has four chapbooks Pink Plastic House and Good Girl Games (Maverick Duck Press), Pensacola Girls (Bone & Ink Press, Sept 2018), Shakespeare for Sociopaths ( Hedgehog Poetry Press Jan 2019) She has another forthcoming, Puritan U (Rhythm & Bones Lit March 2019). Her full length, Candy Cigarette, is forthcoming April 2019 (The Hedgehog Poetry Press). She has a collaborative full length A Victorian Dollhousing Ceremony (Rhythm & Bones Lit) forthcoming in June. Follow her on Twitter: (@lolaandjolie), and her website (kristingarth.com).
I love this poem - it’s a feminine, erotic little puzzle - clever and beautiful ��ReplyDelete