Words by: Lily Anna Art by: Naiyanat Sornratanachai
Silhouette in the evening,
A vision of a madonna cloaked in indigo and chrome
To be found in the smoke screen but never for long.
She undresses from her guise, in the confides of her abode
And performs a ritual to unwind from her affair with the night.
To her, it was not a service to romance,
But self righteous dance.
Taking lustful glances at sex and temporary affection,
Her body was a playground for childlike naivety and exploration.
Gratification was a stranger’s appreciation
And she lavished in the luxury of it all.
She was a fearsome force
Forgetting her girlhood was a sentence frequently spoken from the lips of feigned voices.
As they all watched from the altar of one,
A holy body that thrived in speculation and judgement,
Lost in tracking the movements of flowering femmes like a permanent occupation.
They told her to sit down,
Rid her lips of crimson colour.
She’s all too busy growing up
Feasting on the flight of her own rhythm,
No intervention would be her saviour.
A velvet tongue
Glides the surface,
A pleasurable act
Guided with purpose.
She was not afraid of a mid-afternoon rendezvous
Basking in the sun with all the lights on
Staring directly at you.
For she does not love in muted tones
But in a sensual symphony of rushed heart beats and promises.
She won’t hold on for long,
The labour of her love is in flux.
Don’t forget about the woman
Decorated in crismon and chrome,
Align yourself with the woman
Who is her own muse, her home.