The Truth is Dark Under Your Eyelids by Victoria Mendoza

the truth is dark under your eyeLids

By: Victoria Mendoza

After Charles Simic

my love. And isn’t that its own kind of tragedy?

Where lips say yes or hips say more or where a slumbering form is invitation in and of itself, the truth is stuck under your

scrunched-shut, false-slumber, “please godmother come witch your way into this satin theft and unmake this beast of a would-be prince.”

My brave little curse bearer, wouldn’t it be nice to unburden all that rage? Wouldn’t it feel so sweet, so refreshing, to just render undeserving flesh from intrusive hand and nourish your vengeful hurt?