Who are you?
Your hair is loose and light while mine is fire,
The vixen’s bushy tail twisted around my waist.
Your face is open, young, pure as cotton,
While mine is wary beneath the war paint.
You sing and twirl and ruffle feathers,
While I stand stern. Unmoved.
Your sides are stuffed with luxurious love,
While mine are the keys to Lucifers’ lament,
The taunting lure of others’ temptation.
I am encased in wire and lace,
Satin thread woven to keep me in place.
Their eyes scan my silhouette, lingering,
But, respectfully, never for you.
Your features are familiar, but what is your name?
Cherubs envy you, and in turn stab my back.
My podium, my pedestal is too high to grasp,
I’ll fall with a gasp while you can fool in the grass.
I used to contain your childish laugh, but now,
I play prey to salacious hunters of the night,
my heels burning. But you, you are safe;
Life’s wheel turning has not tainted you yet.
I am enemy to my body, as it is to me,
But it remembers being ripe with youth,
it remembers the light hair, deluxe care,
the serene virtue that you have.
We have met before, haven’t we child?
In some far distant land of pasts and promises.
For the closer I look the more it is true,
Your eyes have I, mine too have You.
Experimental poetry piece for Uni, based on playing with a ‘you’ persona