I mask myself for our own good.
The champagne glow crowning us in airbrushed light
summons forth our souls in finest evening wear:
black dress elegance for me,
bow tie and matching cape round your neck.
There are so many bodies I do not know,
skin shrouded in silk, faces shrouded by masks.
The ballroom hungry
for our impending mistakes,
starving for our sins.
Hold me close, darling. This room is sprouting
ambivalent black trees that stare and stare
in the golden light, and none of them wear rings except for us.
They’re undressing and rooted to the wooden floor, still staring,
my champion, my love.
They can’t look away-
neither can you
neither can I.
December Lace is a former professional wrestler and pinup model from Chicago. She is a Best of the Net nominee and has appeared in the Chicago Tribune, Pro Wrestling Illustrated, The Molotov Cocktail, Pussy Magic Lit, The Cabinet of Heed, Vamp Cat, Twist in Time, Dark Marrow, Rhythm & Bones YANYR Anthology, and Coffin Bell, among others. She loves Batman, burlesque, cats, and horror movies. She can be found on Twitter @TheMissDecember, http://decemberlace.blogspot.com, or in Chicago’s obscure bookshops.