Your eyes are not sapphires… by Malcolm Wernestrom

Your eyes are not sapphires,

They are the dark beads of a crow

Staring into me with as much desire as to a half-eaten corpse

Your hair is not made of tendrils of gold,

Waving and swirling and fixed with gel

Your hair is the thick wool of the black sheep you are

Curling around my fingers and holding me hostage

Your body is not that of David,

Readying himself to take down Goliath

Your body is that of a soft teddy bear

A warm pillow for me to rest on

Your face is not smooth or unscarred,

Soft to the touch 

But its prickly texture against the softness of my cheek

Brings back cherished childhood memories

Of my Pappa’s embrace.

You do not handle me gently

You push me around and squeeze me tight

But you only mean to show that I am yours

You are careful enough handling your porcelain doll

Enough to never let the existing cracks on her body shatter

You are not perfect

You certainly don’t think you are

But I assure you, my love,

You are perfection to me.

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“This love poem is one of my first poems, and felt too cliché and personal to share with anyone but the person to whom it is addressed. It was inspired by Shakespeare’s “Sonnet 130: My mistress’ eyes are nothing like the sun”. I think that it’s mostly cheesy and unoriginal, but I do really enjoy some of the imagery I used, and it means a lot to me.”

Malcolm Wernestrom (he/they/she) is a young genderfluid writer of Swedish-Chilean origin, born and raised in Tiohtià:ke/Montreal, living on unceded Kanien’kehá:ka territory. He was a 2024 FutureVerser with Poetry in Voice and was shortlisted in 2021 for the Youth Short Story Category of the Amazon Canada First Novel Award. Currently studying to become a social service worker, he enjoys writing about mental health, LGBTQ+ themes, and his boyfriend in his free time. His Instagram is @malkkunn.