It was the stink of men I abhorred not their kind hearts, but virile muscularity shape, smell, touch, without knowing why I craved their opposite. Smitten by you, after one day round of your arms, tapering to wrist dimples, ebony flesh, water lily eyes if it was possible to paint what I saw capture behind glass, that redolence. By day people walked through doors sweaty, distracted, their lips wet with thought by night you danced beneath a yellow bulb the sway in your hips, a new language. Morning chimed harshly; coffee almost burnt a memory of the way you tasted, lingering on my hands, how can two people become one? Against all nature. Still. Really together. Birds fly south, leaving trees bare, emptied skies sore and colorless, buildings like fists pound out light and succor, streets are wounds darkness lends disguise to the broken hearted.
Born in Europe, Candice Louisa Daquin is of Sephardi French/ Egyptian descent. Daquin was the Publishing Director at the U.S. Embassy (London) before becoming a Psychotherapist. Daquin is Senior Editor at Indie Blu(e) Publishing, a feminist micro-press and Editorial Partner with Raw Earth Ink. She’s also Writer-in-Residence for Borderless Journal, Editor of Poetry & Art for The Pine Cone Review and Poetry Editor for Parcham Literary Magazine. Daquin’s own poetic work takes its form from the confessional women poets of the 20th century as well as queer authors writing from the 1950’s onward. Her career(s) teaching critical thinking and practicing as a psychotherapist have heavily influenced her writing. As a queer woman of mixed ethnicity and passionate feminist beliefs concerning equality, Daquin’s poetry is her body of evidence.
Indie Blu(e) Publishing 