by Anna Guercio

1
Rue me or court,
but look
into this august assurance:
form has to do with power and control
is one thing to do with power and control
makes due with power and control.

2
What happens when we all come
to look like our images.
She is come
to bind with dirt our fear,
deft punishment for heliotrope girlishness.
I’m butch  he says  but not stupid.

3
Would you still court me cosseted,
the curtains in a constant state of being drawn,
would you sail by over and again,
bound to the mast for protection
against these safely blank canvases,
these cheeks?

• Welcome to Entasis.