Ivory & Satin

Courtesy of Unsplash

Rumors of an estranged creature came around the murmuring tongues to the chatter of my table,

“In what century do we live?” a gentle-someone asks, 

tucking a napkin into a collar one button unfastened; 

their cologne wafts even from afar, enamoring several glossy lips in five-inch stilettos

At my demise, I journey the mollified pricks in pearls and silver-banded fingers encircling the room

“...Poached from the rarest of hunters, no?” a steward whispers,

right to the waitress he frolicked with only minutes before the gala

A deity caught between the gossip she can envision with tusks gleaming into fragments of jewelry

Guests sip distilled water infected by the monstrosity of a being camouflaged with the iron doors

“Where is it?” a lady cries out, staining the silk cloth with red wine,

drenched in her own effrontery when she taps on her husband’s shoulder

But I feel a gentle nudge against the satin billows of my dress, an ivory curve reserved to those its kind

“The elephant only appears when humankind is rid of mistress or suitor,

 and neglects the sportsmen of riches and spite.”