Cold. Obvious sex. The pantry open, but nothing's there except the mud on her dress. The traffic bubbles and roars. Sleeping bears in Lycra slippers wear the honey on their lips.
Sticky hands wipe at fleshy chalkboards. Lessons' ghosts stare back her from scaly walls. Marking her thighs with amounts. Reciting names like ingredients. School again. Sour teddy bears do her homework. While she busies herself with learning what. who she was.
Before.
She dreams out loud. Everyone hears her. She dreams in every color except blue. No one sees.
The panties wrapped around her wrists. Every thought like gumdrops. Stuck. A jawbreaker. Bitten. No one knows how sharp those heel are as she walks.
Saturday
10/13/2007 12:27:00 AM
| Life Poems |