“At the Movies with Narcissus” by Sage
At the Movies with Narcissus
These black-white wings
to the table with a sandwich sword.
Apricot pits circle
a priestess blowing a trumpet to the sea.
No one answers.
Beneath a river there is an ancient boat.
Its motor clicks, then dies.
The puddle-boy says
This is something everyone feels at least once.
His face is soft-gold, tarnished
from all the hands
that have touched his skin and demanded
touch in return.
Puddle-boy, boy in the water
who loved himself
when no one else would, hear
the echo of your blessing:
no one answers you. The world
is a prayer that falls from desperate lips.
The saddest scene of any movie: the boy
unfolds into another boy.
Only so much of their puddle-bodies to go around.
No one answers
when all that’s left are paperwhites rooted
near the water.
Sage is a creative writing undergrad and Blue House fellow at Elms College. Their work appears/will appear in Glass, Ellis Review, Sooth Swarm, Stirring, The Penn Review, Pittsburgh Poetry Review, and elsewhere. As a slam poet/spoken word artist, they often wander Massachusetts looking to throw down in the name of gender expression. They can be found on Twitter @sagescrittore.