The Nature of the Beast

Through a half-open curtain, he welcomes me…

to the stage of his ridiculous theater.

My yearning for peace and belonging

and the fact that he reminds me of an old friend from Prague

has drawn me here…


I tell him my woes,

He tells me I am beautiful… as if that is the main thing.

He sees only what he can take for himself in her beauty…

the other parts of her…

her darkness,

her deep rumblings,

are not to sully his kingdom.


He moves into her realm… commanding…

Orchestrating with callous precision, a grandiose show of ‘refinement’ and ‘taste’…

He imposes on her nature… she resists nothing lest she bites the hand that feeds her.


She thought that he cared for her… but she was mistaken.

Never once, in all this time, has he seen value in learning her language.

Yet, it goes without saying that she must learn his.


He imposes his will, his unworthy authority, on her rich foundations…

building structures to house his guests.

Fills them to the brim with artefacts and pretty pieces…

But nothing can cover the emptiness here.


And his banquet table.

Set to impress. All steely knives and beasts.


And I… the weary traveler… stumble in.

Through a half-open curtain, he welcomes me…

to the stage of his ridiculous theatre.


He offers a glass of wine and a sleeping pill.

I take the wine…

and take my leave.

© Rebecca Radiant Kingsbury 2015

One Comment Add yours

  1. Radiant Rebecca says:

    Reblogged this on The Sound of Her Voice.


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