A poem by Rachele Gusella
I wake up this morning and I’ve understood that my body is a chandelier.
My body is a chandelier
I can light it up as I want
I can turn it on as I please
It guides you in the dark
All alone my body can show you the way
All alone my body can show me the way
To... to wherever I need to go
To... to wherever I need to be.
My body is a chandelier
Golden pale candle sticks
A very rare piece of crap
A very rare piece of art
An antique antiquity in the land of ashes
“Who offers more”?
- “50!”
- “50 for the gentleman with the hat!”
- “70 and a goat!”
- “A goat ladies and gentlemen! 70 and a goat!”
- “80 stars and a very tight heart”
- “Aggiudicato!”
Sold.
My body is a chandelier
And I am on sale every day
Squeezing my legs
Gasping at the mirror
Dancing in the shower
I like to be seen
I don’t like to be stared
I am no exotic fruit
I am no exotic animal babe
I’m a classic tool
And a pretty weird piece of a lady
- Or girl?
Oh boy!
I wake up this morning and my body was a chandelier
Lovers always talk about stars
And here I am,
My body is old fashion electricity
An insecure light
That burns burns and burns
And here I am
My body is a saint
To worship
every night of Hanukkah
To fear
when the day will come
That
I’ll walk
alone
in the streets.
If my body could speak
It would be the worst of sluts
If my body could speak
It would show you the best of manners
Because either we are queens, either whores
Pets either dolls.
Hot stuff.
So I wake up this morning as a (fucking) chandelier
As the one grandpa used to hide
Old fashion electricity
Bursting into flames
I am on fire
In body and soul
I have chosen to be
a humble thunder storm.