Blindness

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We are all mysteries, even to ourselves
111 words
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The girl in lace has dreams of iron
Clamps and shackles, rusted bolts
That fix her joints and bite her skin
And bow her head and plumb her cunt
To bring her back into her flesh
In agonized, cathartic pain.

The girl in leather yearns for silk
Translucent satin filaments
That salve her wounds, unseen and aching,
Forming a tulle that holds her heart
To banish for another day
The roaring iron demons.

The golden girl dreams all in silver
Chrome and nickel, stainless steel,
Mermaid scales that scatter light
To stun the eyes of men like me
Who stumble blindly on the strand
In search of leather, gold, and lace.

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