moon in leo

poem by December Lace

 

 

My divine flesh requires a constant spotlight.

And when the beams of radiance are denied to me,
I wither in the darkness
shriveling, until the promise of a halo rests on my scalp.
All the instances of feeling sick and battered
seem to make sense now that I know.
A lunar lioness, I am compelled to stalk the stage
at all times on padded paws,
hunting with keen and vicious eyes
that prey on precious glitter and the glimmer of light.
Attention is my meat,
magnetism to my mane of golden beams;
I feed on strangers’ gazes, fueling their energy,
pouring their attention into me.
I lure their desires, they invest
in the promise of my actions,
hooking an audience in my bladed claws
razors for clapping, incisors for cheers–
tongue runs ruby down a powdered chin.

But if my mane is gathered in forked hands, trapped in shadows,
my roar can collapse in my ribcage before
it even hits my collarbone.

  I’m dangerous without my halo.

 

 

December Lace is a former professional wrestler and pinup model from Chicago. She has appeared in the Chicago TribunePro Wrestling IllustratedThe Molotov Cocktail, Pussy Magic LitThe Cabinet of Heed, Dark Marrow and Rhythm & Bones YANYR Anthology, among others as well as the forthcomingRiggwelter Press and Coffin Bell. She loves Batman, burlesque, cats, and horror movies. She can be found on Twitter @TheMissDecember.