ROMANCE Poem: Narcissus, by Isaura Lira Greene

There is no safe word
the pull of his face as he stares deep into its depths
He can’t tear himself away
consumed by an all-encompassing lure

the fish flash their tails, wondering who is this man?
billions of dollars have fallen into his trap,
this trap to snatch the attention away at a moment’s glance
like super-glue adhesive, his face appears bigger, closer, nearer

in the mirror, it says that things appear closer than they appear
and for him, this is true as well

he tries to recall wether or not if he can swim?
He’s not positive exactly if he can, but he may as well lie

The valley’s and dips float past the stream, and he reaches his fingers out

He feels the coolness of the water’s surface,
wondering if it were some sort of trick

He had never heared of water before —
His tongue is dry, and he longs for his throat to be quenched
he wonders what it might taste like, he’s forgotten the smell
Taking off the mask that he always wears on his face,
he sniffs at his wet fingers

Disappointed, he leans closer, studying the way his jawline fixes
his eyes glowing with the curiousity of knowledge. He knows now
that he has a beautiful face.

He touches his lips, the fullness of the bottom, and the curve of
cupid’s bow, two small points like a cat,
Kiss me, his lips seem to say, as they move in the reflection

He sees her appear, the woman of his lusts and dreams
standing right behind him
but he’s no long able to tell wether or not she were a figment of his imagination
she talks to him and he doesn’t answer

she crosses her arms since it’s evident that he is blind and deaf to the
all of reality, time and space

she flexes her arms, as he begins to drown, trying with all her might to pull him away
but he won’t fight for his life,
water won’t splash as he chokes,

he thinks this is air, and she screams for help

her face is ghostly, as he stares up at her now
a woman in a flowing white dress, her attention on something away
He doesn’t see that she is beautiful, but he wonders if she might be

as he becomes one with the water, consumed by a tasteless,
odorous liquid

he feels, for once, like he were no longer lonely

A flower appears at the feet of the girl,
she falls to her knees to look at it properly

Narcissus, she whispers.

The man who knew how to love himself