belladonna (atropa belladonna), a poem

Belladonna (Atropa belladonna)

(originally published in Poetry SuperHighway)

Italians have known since the beginning

how I can make a woman beautiful —

it’s all in the eyes, they must be receptive,

or impenetrable, they must soothe,

or provoke, they must be wide with innocence,

or with knowledge. People feel like nothing

unless observed seriously,

by a woman with eyes like black stars;

everyone knows the way children call

Watch me, lady, See what I can do!

That is why those seeking beauty

dilate their pupils with my sap…

I was also named for Atropos,

the Fate who severs the thread of life.

I sever men’s hearts, I am that beautiful lady,

I am atropine — I am stinging red

juice used for the dilating effect.

When I so desire, I flower singly or in pairs,

nodding, my corolla blue-purple or dull red,

according to my mood, or the soil I twine

my pale roots in. So who do you think you are,

holding back a polite cough? Deep down, you know

you fell the second I looked at you, seeing right through

your clothes to the naked body you hold so dear.

	Kimberly Townsend Pa… on frog sex, a poem
	Linda George on frog sex, a poem
	Kimberly Townsend Pa… on Priestess
	Payton Bogatch on Priestess
	edthlion on Priestess