by Alessandra Ventura
How often has the moon beheld me from afar
eagerly waiting for my phone to glow?
How she must laugh,
as she watches me giggle
at yet another 2 am message.
“Midnight Mistress,” she calls me,
as she watches me bare myself
to the depths of my soul,
unraveling secret after secret
until I am all laid out
for greedy eyes to soak in.
I deal in intimacy:
in whispered dreams
and stolen kisses.
The light of the moon does not help,
romanticizing my dalliances,
sweeping me up into a starry sky,
dancing amongst the constellations.
I won’t be the person they wake up next to,
that much I know.
but the effulgence allows me to pretend
that perhaps I can be more
than just a paramour.
But then the sun explodes in the sky
And there is no hiding from the harsh glare.
And I see those moments for what they are.
Just a made-up fantasy of a Midnight Mistress,
hoping for something real in the darkness.
Alessandra Ventura is a Latina creative from Astoria Queens. Born in Mexico City, she is making it her mission to reconnect with her roots and implement her culture into her work. She has a love for any form of writing but her main favorites are prose and poetry. A recovering theatre kid and LAGCC Alum, her favorite pastimes are re-reading the Percy Jackson series and helping out at the LAGCC Writing Center.
