a poem of mine

Rehearsal for something Blue
Scheherezade
Choose a life
He said
Handing me masks of harlots
Then smiled and winked
To someone
I couldn’t see
I fed the beast
For days and nights
For tyrants and clowns
I poisoned all the tales
For a show down

Ours was a time
Of mills and small frauds
maidens on silver plates
suicide moon parades
half question half swank
and I
a rehearsal for something blue
a suspended mirage
a wet reverie jar
peeled off all the velour
my eyes possessed
to cover his hatred
with mine
the bleeder
puffed the cushions
prepared for another coitus
surrounded by ghosts of horses
paralyzed
impotent
ferocious
then
he took me
to a land of delusions
i watched all the dangling screams
the dramatized sorrows
the reflection-free mirrors
and saw at once
how to play this death game

for a thousand nights
I stayed alive
Not because he was curious
About how the stories ended
Or because I was a lofty teller
He listened
And did not touch me-he was sick of flesh anyway-
he listened
because of that petrified abyss
that urgeto know
to absorb
to breathe
everyone else’s miseries
but his own

choose a life
he said
handing me the masks of true wives
I smiled and winked
To the funny torture he was offering
And killed myself