The White Devil

We watch each other in the blue glow of predawn, limbs entwined. We speak with our eyes: “I grow hair on my back now,” I say, “white keratin horns that I pluck when you’re not around. A white picket fence is really a series of spears meant to impale the raised chins of children like ours. Please don’t make me become what I am.” His eyes collect the shell of my body. My words fare the same. “At least your horns are white,” he says. “And in this light, your eyes are almost blue. Let’s dream a while, shall we?”

 

 

 

Shara Concepción‘s writing has been featured or is forthcoming in PANK, CosmoGirl magazine, Eunoia Review, and Janeland (Cleis Press). She is the recipient of the CUNY Undergraduate Poetry Award. She currently lives in Boston, but her heart and its shareholders remain in New York City.

 

Photo Credit: Justin Shearer

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