Portraiture

A jewel-laden snake encircles her golden throat,
bangles grasp her arm like an eagle’s claw,
heavy-lids, parted lips, she inhales victory,
caresses the head she holds beneath her bare breast,
locks trickle from her waist to the floor.
She stares down from the wall,
to the girl in the scarlet bra
who stands below her,
eyebrows arched,
crayoned into question marks.
Long hair ensnared in her fingers,
she squeezes pimples on her breast
between false fingernails,
until the transformation takes place:
perfume that slaps across the face
then unzips the flies,
garter-belt,
like a bat’s wing spread
across pale buttocks,
stockings raised like girders.
She leaves,
trots down the street,
on her way to be tacked to the wall,
where she’ll stare at the carpet,
and dream of being Salome,
or a fairy, kept in a jar.