les bijoux
adapted from Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire
I was a deer with one hoof on the pavement,
naked except for the heart on my sleeve
displayed like a blood red ruby
in a setting of bones and pale flesh
when they take me, I pretend I am the prize
that I am worth more than the profit in my need
I make believe that this body is enough,
that they will not break me to make themselves whole.
I know how to let myself be led,
I was born to be rebuilt in another image
taught to be grateful for the abiding sea
to believe I jumped from the cliff where I was pushed.
you bait the bear then whip her when she roars
you plant seeds then burn the fields down
“the ash is good for the soil,” you say
as we step on my eggshells you betrayed to reason
his glance and his voice, scalpel and vise
he shone like steel and burned like ice
his had pretensions that he mapped my mind
the condescending way I overheard him say “she’s mine”
he held me still with hope
and he strangled me with conjured stars
you can’t deny the devil
when he’s the house doctor and this is hell
“the Pierides were Muses too,” but he disagrees
I must walk before I can run
and he stroked my feathers one by one
as they pierced and pricked their way through my skin
if you follow one light long enough,
and you stay on the road despite yourself,
it is easy to believe the lone man when he appears on a high horse
and says he’s the only one left to save you.
Monica Deck is an archer, author, and MFA candidate. She also teaches workshops in archery and blackout (found) poetry. She lives in the American Midwest with her husband, daughter, and four cats.
