‘Triptych’ by Willow Loveday Little

I made you my altarpiece.
Even your well-balanced hinges
Were washed gold by candlelight.

You are made of three men
Who confront the origin
From three cardinal directions.
I am the North Star.
I picked you
Because I love being flanked
By symmetry:
On the outer panels,
Two triplets in stride
And one right down the middle
Carry my litter, mirrored
In profile from torso to the illuminated
Gilding of your genitals
And identical Roman toes. I am
Aroused by palindromes.

Cracked tempera outlines are
An eagle’s view of a dusty canyon.
You are stronger together.
Together. My holy men.
Quarrel wastes breath but
You don’t breathe. A painting is
Lungless, so sleep
Your air away;
Oxidation corrupts plywood.

Circles eat themselves into
Stupor but triangles elect
A leader whose throne
Is acrid incense. Burns them stable.
The pyramids are proof.

False idols are a joke to
Me. My laughter
Echoing against the space between
Shards of stained glass bright enough
To reach fingers to the Madonna’s
Image, like the lung’s alveoli
Grasping at the throne’s cusps
Is the only testament I desire.


WILLOW LOVEDAY LITTLE is Montreal-based writer and poet whose work has appeared in The Dalhousie Review, Westmount Mag, and Write or Die Tribe. She holds a Bachelor of Arts from McGill University and is an active contributor to Graphite PublicationsandMedium, where she holds Top Writer status in three categories. Passionate about creative process, Willow curates the event series, “Pieces of Process.” You can find her on Medium, at Instagram handle @willowloveday, or on LinkedIn.

Copyright © 2019 by Willow Loveday Little. All rights reserved.