Your fangs are bared and I see them
glinting in the white light that swells up the wall
like a blush in reverse.
You drag them down the pale skin of my neck
while a growl pools thickly
at the base of your throat.
You hold me still in the grip of your claws
as you lean in to tear away my
collar of jewels—
it is the only thing standing between you
and a long, sweet drink from my jugular.
There is an eruption of light as the shards fly,
and we are buried in fire flowers of crystal
as the glass beads shatter between your teeth.
That's when I see disappointment in your wolfish eyes:
You thought they were diamonds.
But I have never been what people expect me to be.
Instead I am Bachelorette,
and I can climb on rooftops
to be closer to the stars.
I see things the rest of the brutish world passes by,
and don't tell me magic doesn't exist
because I won't just find it,
I'll point to where it lives in your very own marrow.
The plushest place I know is the inside of a mind,
and red is my favourite colour because
I know all four chambers like the back of my hand.
I have loved.
I have given.
I have cared.
I have sacrificed.
I am Bachelorette,
and am I more than can be written on a piece of paper.
I am more than whatever it is
the world tells me I need to wear
draped around my neck.
I do not walk on gilded brick, but
I do have superpower:
I can turn dust into champagne—
the kind that bubbles up deeply within,
and makes a soul effervesce.
Inspired by and with two lines of hidden lyrics from Tori Amos, “Bachelorette”