Self Portait

 

I sit in an armchair,

three in the morning, a Motel 6,

towels mashed with heel prints.

 

A rattling air conditioner is

wedged in the window.

On the wall, a replica of

 

Rembrandt’s Self Portrait.

He looks like my babysitter,

bearded, curly haired.

 

An oracular smirk curves his lips.

His dismounted torso, extends the

unspent minute, eyes a

 

blonde that sleeps face down, bare ass.

Her bruised foot dangles off the bed.

As I fall asleep, I recall the first

 

two months of our relationship.

How I refused to tell her

about my babysitter.

 

“this will be the last time,” the first

hollow promise seared to my

seven year old self,

 

the same promise I vowed to

myself after every time I tried and

failed to have sex with my girlfriend.

 

Domenic Scopa is a philosophy student at Suffolk University. He has been published in several online and print journals and has worked with poets such as: David Ferry, Fred Marchant, and George Kalogeris. Domenic intends to finish his senior year and apply for graduate school with the intention of attaining an MFA in creative writing.

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