Words are failing to capture the rapture surrounding the unsolved mystery of the man who walked through a peaceful winter night only to steal from me
and while i sit here trying to make sense of the crazy little pieces finally coming together to shape one more clichéd fairytale i realise we were never part of the equation
Let them have their romance, their flowers, their lover’s words
give them all the matching his and hers
i merely want to be that last drink before bed
i want to be that hushed honey sweet whisper hanging on your lips
the last ember glowing in the dark
i want to sleep in the curve of your smoky midnight smile
And if there is anything i want you to know
it is that in me you’ll always have a home
and that i will be a mirror, cold and exact
what you show me, i will show back
The difference between her and i
is that i will never let you rescue me
tie me up and watch me fly
i have wings at the soles of my feet and in my pinions i hide razorblades
i warn you, i will destroy you
only to watch you give birth to yourself
I promise you nothing and i will deliver
and we will revel in this sick sad mess
and i will trade romance novels for Nietzsche
and i will happily sleep alone
and i will steal back my heart when that man is sleeping
I will take his too if it’s worth keeping
and i will show you his face and you will see yourself
and i will keep our hearts safely out of our reach
while we slowly undress and caress to the humdrum of the lubdublubdublubdubstep.
Honestly, i’m the only honest thing in your life.
—Iskra Valentine
Iskra Valentine is an activist, feminist, burlesque artist and writer from Australia. When she is not tackling GBLTI issues in writing, she is out protesting them in the streets or on stage. Iskra finds her inspiration on quiet nights, reading beat poetry in the bath listening to Nick Cave with a drink in one hand and cigarette in another.
