‘Of Troy’

Ayesha Rizwan is a dentist, a writer and part-time photographer. She often takes photos of landscapes while commuting to work or while working on the outreach community programs.

Of Troy

I am vacant-

a screaming churning chasm

of possibility

both malicious and marvelous.

My mind is an empty chalkboard

with hastily erased marks,

vanished to make room

for the teachings

of my next glossator.

I will be

your Athenian and

your Spartan,

your Madonna

and your Whore.

At a single word,

I would lick

your wounds (an ever

subservient nurse)

and climb into bed

with you after (debase

me however, so long as

you say it is my purpose).

I don’t remember

my mother tongue-

I have been dragged

across countless

expanses of language.

Translate me,

spread me open

and gouge new meaning

from the words etched

on my vertebrae.

Affix me with adjectives

and conjugate me,

propagate your meaning

through my name

given dispassionately

to the world

of men.

My hair is flaxen,

or fiery as sunset

reflection on open water,

or the inky stain

of the little hours

before dawn.

My eyes are verdant,

or perhaps cerulean,

honeyed brown

in a certain slant of light.

My skin is porcelain,

molten gold,

Nubian dark.

When I pass a mirror by,

there is no longer a reflection-

just a faded and flickering

silhouette dancing

with uncertainty.

Consistency:

in each version,

my blood is despairingly red.

When you

thumb irreverently

through my pages,

would you please

tell me the girl

spelled out

in the final

chapter?

Kayleigh Tabor is a student at the University of Southern Mississippi, where she studies English literature and creative writing. Her interests include writing sappy poetry, reading fantasy novels and drinking copious amounts of caffeine. Her previously published work can be found in BarBar Poetry's "Simulacra", and Product Magazine.