Photo Art by Michael Dooley
Scopophilia
Come to me as you are,
between bruise and bloom.
This shallow gaze is a cage,
leaving you as a harvest ready for reaping.Show me the ritual:
Mornings of stale blueberry
muffins, a dead bee draping
the windowsill, eight hour
workdays, weekly grocery runs.Show me the swell:
In a toothpaste specked mirror,
a body distended with digest
marshmallow flesh and striped dress
that no longer fit your frame.Show me what aches:
The southern drawl of a number
that doesn't call anymore. The listless
phone scroll on empty evenings.
The snare of a waning body.Show me desire:
Hands sticky with sweetness
like a scene already written.
The way you tend to the stalk,
all lavender and lure.Show me surrender:
Come to me after the frizz
of a busy day. Leave the window
open. I am a leech latched to your
sequined smile. Let me beg;this is what it means to be dismantled.
