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Show 10 The Woman in the Wolf's Head Mask This is the one about misery, the one about windy nights and street lights, and the women who say hello for safety as they're passed on the blackened sidewalk, and the women who turn themselves away. It's the one about wanting to spit on the moon when it's a lovely little sliver of silver. It's the one about how I loved the cold those nights I crept along the streets chanting to myself. It's the one in which my body is a diseased tree, my mind an iron cog, and wherever I am is the closest thing there is anywhere to hell. I tell you now I was never lightened by your warmth. I scorned the people in your life. Ridiculous woman, I know the smile that hides behind that precious mask. Now I can no longer tell when this is dream, or memory of real life past. I tell you I never admitted I cannot lie. How I love the cold. |
