top of page
Writer's pictureMarías at Sampaguitas

Poem by Venus Davis

Desklamp


Rose used to leave the light on when she went to bed

Not the big overhead light, but the small whispering shine of her desk lamp

Whenever I’d sleep in her room, the cradle of her shadow on the wall would shiver as she held me closer to her

We spoke in whispers or not at all, but those shadows on the wall echoed everything that stuck to the bottom of our throats

I watched them slightly shift and then cling back to their places in planetary patterns when she held me as close as she could like how the sun can’t bare to be away from the earth for too long

And I scrutinized their movements when I’d lay on her long golden hair and she’d push me over to fight the pain alone

Rose pulled me into the time warp of childhood fears - of monsters and goons

Of my own shadow

That dark menace that rides steadily along my skin with every movement I make and doesn't let go until the sky caves in to it’s melancholy treasures

I wasn't her lover then but the ghost that lined her body

If the light of the desk lamp hit me just right I could be her plastic sex doll wanting to glitter over every orifice and touch tenderly

Or I could be her own personal monster

In a sepia daze the dark dancers on the wall faded

Shone away by a light angled at the monsters

Sometimes I catch myself leaving my desk lamp on

That warm nostalgic shadow

it’s grace around my arms

But my eyes no longer greet any dark menace or dancers

Or the long golden hair of a flower that harbors a thorn



Venus Davis is a 20-year-old nonbinary writer from Cleveland, Ohio. They are currently a poetry reader for Random Sample Review. Venus is also working on writing a poetry chapbook inspired by astrology. Follow their twitter for more memes, rants, and the occasional poem: @venusbeanus.   

52 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Kommentare


bottom of page