Jealous Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Jealous

If I were a painter
Realist no other
I would call you sitter
You would pose
Hair on sides
Then one side
Then brush to your face
One ear, sometimes two
Or without
"Chest forward, " I would say
Your nipples stick out
(No bra,) in my mind
And your hips and your legs
I would draw everything to your nails
Black, white and colors
In the frame on the wall, your portrait
But one night
I would come with sharp knife
I would strike left and right
I'd break everything, glass shards
I would do everything
You would be only mine
On my arm every night
You and I, two, alone
No one more; till I die