In which scene the devil appears—
bovine-feline—slender in hips and falcate horns, pitch-forked tail toying like a cat’s—hooves—
as light itself. Lucifer being
from the Latin lux, as in, Oh light-bringer, Oh morning star—
oh Bermuda, oh wet triangle, oh kitten’s ear.
Oh bullish magnet with one pole stuck deep in the human heart, the other in the eye of the sun.
He is perfectly electric, in heart-stop red
as to seem exactly clean.
Does not move but glows,
In cell biology, Lucifer yellow
is known for its ability to be visualized in both living and preserved cells,
suggesting to one the possibility
that fluorescence is less interested in fixation than it is in god-roving between slices of sky.
This morning the horizon line
makes a red welt of axis where my body Ys in bed,
exciting itself with summoning up
(All ye harried lovers, line up with your complaints.)
a a thousand harms done post-haste.
A sea change between the ear that hears his leaving
and the one to which I affix an earring in the mirror.
By Rachel Reynolds. Photos by © iStockphoto.com/adventtr
and © iStockphoto.com/Buto.