The Merchant's Pearl
girl, he'll tell you anything and everything
to get what he wants, didn't your mother tell
you anything of the deceits of men?
it's going too far to say it like this,
but how else are you supposed to learn?:
the pearl he wants is between your legs and
he doesn't care about your pleasure, your
name, your dreams, the things going on
inside that darling head of yours, no...
and so what if he's your father, the truth is
that his is the kind of love that
suffocates, and if you don't know already,
you will soon enough,
you'll look back on this moment as the
awakening you should've had...
for now he thinks you are the virgin, that
no one's ever crept up to your room,
that none have curled up next to you
under the bushes in the wastelands
where no one could hear you.
let him think what he wants,
he's going to anyway, and besides,
you'd only be another whore if you
told him, whereas were you his
son, there'd be afternoon tea served from the dallah
on that carpet with him leaning close and still closer as
he smiled to ask what she was like,
this woman who in the light of day,
doesn’t even exist without a father’s judgement
This poem was written in response to the sex and art ekphrastic challenge.
Garth Ferrante is a complete unknown who teaches, writes, and makes games out of challenging his own creativity. He writes because he loves to, because he finds meaning and purpose in it, because if he didn’t, life would be lifeless.
The Ekphrastic Review
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