One Poem by Simon Leonard

Written in response to this month’s Special Challenge.

In the Red Room

I am a fish in your red room:
just another fish,
flitting in front of your glass eyes.

A fish in your bed,
the pale lava of your bed.
A fish on your thighs,
your inert, generous thighs.

Shoals of my hands stir
the cream of your marble breasts;
flounder on your neck.

Just another fish, wanting
to drown in your mineral warmth;
your thighs to collide, peel apart,
welcome my electric scales inside,
squeeze the tenderness out of me.

All you want is red.

Lava flows in your gaze,
busy feeding.

Naked like a stone, you are tender
like a loin of stone,
inviting a million waves
to unremember rock to froth,
sediment to foam,
until all detail is lava red,
and no one can see your smile.

Pygmalion only had to plug you in;
fit money in the slot.
Maybe I just liked it better this way.


A poet and intermittent writer of short fiction, Simon spends most of his time teaching English in a Secondary School in Cologne, although he would like to escape back home to Spain. He has had work published in EnvoiOrbis and Ink Sweat & Tears, and been shortlisted in various short fiction competitions.

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