The Stranger.
In The Stranger, as part of Mania's Muse: Verses from the Edge Calice presents a striking exploration of identity, vulnerability, and the hidden dynamics of human connection. The poem reads like an intimate conversation between the self and its various fragmented versions, capturing the essence of estrangement that comes from living behind a mask — the persona we create versus the truth we often avoid.
The imagery of the photographer and subject frozen in time introduces us to a moment of reflection. This moment, suspended in the space between observation and revelation, speaks to the tension we all experience when confronted with the layers of our own existence. The photographer represents an external observer, perhaps society, while the subject is the self, performing for the lens, yet hiding behind it. Calice’s choice to frame the poem this way signals a deeper conflict: we are both the artist and the art, and the act of seeing ourselves is just as performative as being seen by others.
There is a poetic unraveling here — one that strips away the familiar comforts of daily routine and plunges the reader into a darker introspection. The line, "We wake up next to strangers, meet ourselves the next day," encapsulates the poem’s theme of disconnection, where identity is fluid, elusive, and sometimes terrifyingly unfamiliar. This passage mirrors the way modern life dehumanizes us: we float through our interactions, numb to the emotional weight they carry. The streets, the subway, and the office all become spaces of quiet suffering, where everyone carries their private pain, unacknowledged by the world around them.
Calice’s decision to anchor this emotional landscape in the metaphor of peeling layers and stripping before a mirror highlights the vulnerability inherent in self-examination. Each layer reveals a more fragile version of the self, one that is unafraid of the external gaze yet terrified of its own reflection. The poem moves swiftly from individual introspection to a more ominous dialogue about relationships and emotional dependency.
The second half of The Stranger introduces a darker narrative, where the speaker reflects on how affection can become a weapon — a tool for emotional manipulation. The metaphor of Stockholm Syndrome weaves through the lines, particularly in "kissing the hands of your destroyer," where love becomes a means of control and submission. Calice’s use of this concept deepens the tension in the poem, suggesting that the stranger we wake up next to is not just someone else, but a version of ourselves that willingly walks into the arms of destruction.
As the poem reaches its conclusion, the metaphor of Pandora’s box becomes central. Calice vividly captures the moment when the speaker offers up their insecurities to another, only to find that these vulnerabilities are now weaponized against them. The stranger, once an innocent observer, becomes the predator. The narrative shifts from introspection to a chilling realization — that in revealing our deepest fears, we expose ourselves to annihilation. It is a potent commentary on trust and the danger of emotional transparency.
The Stranger is an artful meditation on the nature of identity, relationships, and the precarious line between vulnerability and self-destruction. Calice’s work invites readers into a world where darkness and light coexist, where the self is constantly shifting, and where trust, once given, can easily be betrayed.
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