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To Love the Horseman of War

Cleveland, OH

DOMINICK DUDA

I was forged in the likeness of steel & violence,

a bona fide swordsman impaling the soft pink

of any man I could wrap my hands around.

No origin is bloodless, the body unfurling

from the epicenter of its own roar & want

in a stampede of wounds. I’ve swallowed whole cities,

pressed lip to skin & made scab, thrift store

thaumaturgy. Does that arouse you? I’m their babe,

their bitch, glitterbird uncaged. The sun sets

when I tell it to set. Sure, they always want romance,

eventually, but I can’t tarry. The gunpowder’s

all rubbed off & I’m too wet to spark. Where’s the towel?

I’ve got to go. There’s a thousand faces in this city,

there’s two thousand eyes waiting to eat me alive.