by John Martino
Stay. Even for one second
more. Watch how I turn
into a two-way mirror,
reflect not who you are,
but what I want you to be:
the perfect Enemy. Look.
I flutter the false lashes
of my third eye. I beckon
with the finger, a thigh,
the exposed and beating
lie of truth. I show three
of a perfect pair. The hope
that isn’t, yet is always,
there. Can’t you see? I am
not who I say I am, but
what you want me to be.
John Martino is a writer, educator, and avid traveler currently residing in Hong Kong. Some of his wayward poems have found a home at North Dakota Quarterly, Another Chicago Magazine, Packingtown Review, and Apricity Press, among others. He is the Executive Editor at Home Planet News (homeplanetnews.com).