When Narcissus Met Himself
Who is this I see in the water? Could
it be the lover I’ve been searching
for all these years but didn’t think
existed? Come closer to me. Why
won’t you move? What do you say?
Your lips move, yet you remain silent.
I inch closer to you, water
touches my lips, your kiss drips
away from my mouth before I taste
it. I kiss you again. Why must you
tease me. A breeze comes, your face
ripples. I want to stay here forever,
gaze at your face, kiss your watery
lips even if they never satisfy me.
My legs join, my arms become one
with my torso, my skin turns green,
my body shrinks. White petals sprout
around my neck, a yellow cup covers
my face, keeping my lips away from
yours, deafening me, blinding me,
taking you away from me forever.
glass / clean
work areas / Help
at the construction site /
supply tools / paint surfaces / operate
buses, trucks, trains, boats, and airplanes /
remove impurities from coal / prepare meals / appraise
real property / develop solutions / diagnose problems of the
oral and maxillofacial regions / move materials around a warehouse /
treat diseases / act as security / use one-way mirrors and audio/video
equipment to watch for irregular activities such as cheating or theft /
provide verbal and written reports of all suspicious behavior / direct
a post office / perform surgery to improve appearance of
casino workers / conduct research to determine the effects
of drugs on living organisms / instruct children /
promote social, physical, and intellectual growth /
coordinate activities in preschool or
other child development facility.
Robots are watching.
They lurk in the shadows
merging with darkness.
You can’t see them,
but they can see you
slipping under the sheets,
wrapping them around your body
as if the soft fabric could protect you.
You lie against the pillow
reminding you of a mother’s bosom.
You close your eyes,
surrendering yourself to the comfort
of your bed.
A false comfort.
From their lair in the shadows,
the invaders grin, surround you
from all sides, thicken the air
over you, crawl on you,
bind your limbs, cover your mouth,
pierce your skin with their claws,
drag you into their lair
deep in the darkness.
Your sheets and pillows
can’t protect you now.
Only the impenetrable,
will save you
from the horrors
of the night.
Christopher Iacono lives with his wife and son in Massachusetts. You can learn more about him and his works at cuckoobirds.org.