Cracks

Photo By Emilie Trouillet, https://www.flickr.com/photos/ahbahbravo/

I am not Ofelia, eyes fixed on the ceiling,
a bunch of wild flowers in the bath tube.

I am not a suicidal blonde,

sleeping a barbituric dream.
 

I am not the princes in the marble tower,

I am not the object of desire.

I know I am not a damsel in distress
                                                         and I know
that distresses you because I can see.

I can see the stains on your blue suit,
the worn mask of charm
the cracks in your leather boots,
the black line of dirth and sweet around your neck.