Hallowe’en

A year ago I bought a mask of red and gold painted diamonds. This Hallowe’en I played harlequin, bright servant to my lover, atop the Armory. I ask May I walk with a harlequin’s exaggerated mannerisms? and at his yes I wholly inhabit this mask. It’s as if a layer of socialization peeled off and exposed the smitten, agile girl within; allowed her to sing poetic praise, cavort and laugh, and speak with her body.

My lover is Sire or my Liege all evening; I compose slant-rhyme quatrains as he extinguishes cloves on my breasts:

Fire crackling ‘pon the night
snuffed out upon my body
All around us watch in fright
and yet it leaves me wanting.