Chandelier

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.