Thief Made Of Gold, Alex Shenstone

Espionage by candle in the dead of night.

Creaking floorboards. Temptations in low light.

Upholstery. Silverware.

Soft linen sheets and food pre-prepared.

Fingers teasing platters, a body testing beds.

Sitting in an armchair that they think is theirs.

But it is all far less comfy

when you stumble. Dizzy.

Struggling in candlelight.

Candles far away. Flickering only slight.

Not quite enough to see the room,

Or the features of the shadows above you, who loom.

You deserve it. They say.

You used our home for your looting play.

You sunk your back into the freshly made bed,

So we will carve your bones into bedframes instead.

You used the chair to ease your muscles,

So we will use your tendons for curtain tassles.

Our hard earned food, picked by your dirty fingers.

So we’ll have your kidneys, in blood gravy rivers.

Little honey roasted thief.

Trying to take apart our home, bringing us grief.

But your scheme has failed,

and your life is now de

railed.

Now we will weave blankets out of your locks of gold,

To keep our cub safe from your world’s cold.

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Alex Shenstone is a trans UK university student with an inclination towards darker interpretations, and enjoys spending time contemplating darker perspectives, and reimagining classic stories. He also has poetry appearing in The Global Youth Review, and set to appear with Ghost Orchid Press. He can be found on Twitter at @AlexakaSatan.