Little black dress—
my new carapace.
I am queen of the dungheap.
I am the sole black
chess piece in the white air of morning.
I’m winning
in this dream. My coal skin shines
so hard it might turn diamond
under this bright blanket of lights.
When I get home I’ll slip it off,
smooth as graphite erased.
Aditi Machado’s poetry has appeared in journals such as Eclectica, nth position, tongues of the ocean and others. Her opinions and obsessions appear on her blog, Blotting paper.
Categories: New Classics
wow. a cold & deadly blade of a poem. brilliant.
Thank you, Stu. : )
This poem charms me with ferocity. Love it.
Thanks for reading, JJS.