POETRY | FREE VERSE

What is Hidden?

Beneath my edges

Image by Ravina Lages in Pexels

Look beneath my edges.
Search for me in shadows
where darkness meets the light.
I’ll wait for you there.

Over our morning coffee,
you ask:
How was your night, my love?
Any dreams?

I tell you about Poor Things,
a film I watched
while sick with flu.

Lust.
Cruelty.
Privilege and patriarchy —
pixels of misogyny
consumed in my bed.

We move to icons,

Audrey Hepburn —
all class and esteem,
men’s stares stopped dead
by collarbones, raised to swim
in the green flecks of her eyes.

How about Marilyn? you say —
all cherry lips, curves and hips,
white skirt billowing
over legs straddling
the New York City
subway grate.