Broken Cleopatra
I come before you as she did
before Caesar,
powerful and naked.
Padding around me like a stalking tiger,
flesh and sinews bunching
beneath the seemingly human skin,
you reach out-
not to caress, or simply touch-
but to tear a jagged gash
beneath my breast
and taste my blood.
I hope it is sweet for you.
Now, seated before the audience of mirrors
that only amplify the scars,
symbols of your presence
so generously applied.
Especially that white mottled brand
in the cave at the small of my back
marring the once smooth line-
You have succeeded,
I am ashamed
of my nakedness.
But the line of my neck
is strong and unbent. 
[J.F. Walton]

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