Thigh High Lace Love
I only like men in high heels and corsets.
Who act like a pageant mother to me
& flaunt across underground railroads & drift through
boisterous city streets. They bite down
on my inner ear lobe,
tsk tsk tsking to me
as I capitulate to the concrete
my knee caps cave south
my nose in between their pointed, triangular toes
& my tongue, up their hairy hamstrings,
till it curves into the roof of their sticky, lipsticked mouth; oh
stop it.
Look around.
All of the masculine marked boxes are covered with sheets of cracked glass,
don’t show me my past:
daddy issues this, mommy issues that;
I deserve love, please come back.
would you stay, & hold my hand & could you do that thing, where you make slow circles inside my palm, till I drift off falling slowly sideways, my head rests below your neck. Stroke my hair as the mellow tv night light glows & you sit next to me,
wishing that I was the daughter you never had; when I drift in and out of a realm where you are my mommy, my girlfriend, my boyfriend, my daddy,
just all of the goodnight forehead kisses I can get.
Cassandra Manzolillo is a writer, filmmaker, and dancer based in Long Island, New York. Cassandra is a full time student at Stony Brook University and is set to graduate with a BFA in creative writing and literature.