Wax Statue

She is never sure what the others see

Beyond lacquered lashes and ruby mouth

Circling the looking-glass

That leads to her twisted soul

Tied up in knotted ribbons

Sampson’s hair wrapped round her heart

Woven thread by thread

More decoration to soothe her flushed flace

Withered from tragedy and despair

Reborn through youth and beauty

I am a harlot beyond the bible’s reckoning

Collecting gems of sideways glances

Given freely yet stolen by my avarice

From willing grateful victims

Art collectors

Unaware their gaze is my only muse

Hold still as an ancient petroglyph

You might unkink that curled hair

Or snap apart that smile

Used to put strangers at ease

Cochineal lips and fringed eyes

Like a painted bisque doll
You are a perfect mannequin in the mirror
Made opaque from a lifetime of reflection


August 13th, 11:44 pm