Dance of the Seven Veils
Jeanne Wagner, Kensington, CA
2009 Grand Prize Winner
Behind the torch lights, upturned faces tilt
And leer like sallow lilies in the dark.
The body and the mind are separate skills.
I’ve learned my motions well, I play my part.
Their faces leer like sallow lilies in the dark.
I wear one veil for each two years I’ve lived.
I’ve learned my motions well, I move by heart.
I give only what I’m asked to give.
I shed one veil for each two years I’ve lived.
You show one thing, another is concealed.
I give only what I’m asked to give.
Teach me what I’m not supposed to feel.
You show one thing, another is concealed.
A veil covers up my mouth but not my eyes.
Tell me what I’m not supposed to feel.
I drape myself in veils, my veils all lies.
One veil hides my mouth but not my eyes.
I watch the platters where the fish heads stare,
Indifferent to my veils, my veils all lies.
The dead have nothing more to bear.
I watch the platters where the fish heads stare
From the flattened silver circles of their eyes.
The dead are severed from their cares,
They’re deaf to the rhythm of the knives.
Fish heads stare from the circles of their eyes.
Someone strips the scales, casts them to the side.
Along the spines and ribs, the sound of knives.
The heads left whole, the bodies open wide.
I shed my final veil and toss it to the side.
The body and the mind are separate skills.
Even after death the eyes are opened wide.
Like sallow lilies, our upturned faces wilt.
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