I was a bleached out blonde,
busy inventing neologisms,
suspiring spirit, iron spangles,
starlot, harlet, portmanteau,
mesh, putty and leather boa,
discovered on a soft spot by
an artisan speakeasy, my sheer
plasticity attracted his gaze, he
told me of frits and vanadium
glazes, concealing imperfections,
misdemeanours, stupid mistakes.
Vitrification. He could break a
nose for the perfect shape, crawl
over bones, mould my face, how
shivering is the reverse of crazing,
blindfold me with masking tape,
cinch my waist, weight my pleats,
rotate me in a vitrine after heat,
repeat, Miss X, I adore you, in
his sleep. What are you looking at?
Save your sodden handkerchiefs
for how I walked into a kiln,
covered my self with clay,
confine the space I move in,
died in such a way. Porcelained.
Julie Hogg is a writer and teacher from Teesside. Her poetry is widely published in magazines and anthologies and her debut pamphlet, Majuba Road, is available from Vane Women Press.
This poem was inspired by a tiny character in a Leonora Carrington painting.
Follow the link for a list of other Poems of the Month.
Miss X, I adore you © 2017 by Julie Hogg: used with permission.
Copyright of this poem remains with the poet: please do not download or republish without permission.