BY ROXANNE CARDONA
Copyright is held by the author.
after Cynthia Huntington
Do not discount the appeal of his yellow eyes.
Nor how you find yourself drowning in their ocean,
even the waves wear more than one colour;
This is a man of great stealth and cunning;
behold the fevered steaks he displays
beneath his red whiskers; all for you if you wish.
The taste of blood on your tongue, the dark purr,
the glorious fur tanned against your open throat,
the beat of his tail along your thighs. This is a man
who will asphyxiate your dinner parties,
break into your journals, punish your lips
with his kisses. Do not let him out of your sight.
Pull down the shades, listen to the night moan,
forget — Your friends. Your solitude.
Your fear of treading water.
By morning you will have learned to paddle.
***
Roxanne Cardona was born in New York City of Puerto Rican heritage. She was a principal and educator in the South Bronx. Her work has appeared in: Frontier Poetry, finalist in 2023 Ekphrastic Poetry Contest and New Voices, CommuterLit, Connecticut River Review, Mason Street, Pine Hill Review, Loch Raven Review, Willows Wept Review, Naugatuck River Review, The Westchester Review, and elsewhere. Her first book of poetry, Caught in the Principal’s Lens, a finalist in 2024 Wheelbarrow Books Poetry Prize.
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