I admit to feeling dread
When I used to think about now
From the safety of the past
Eleven to sixteen
These years are said to be
Pain, lust, anger, angst
Self-identifying withdrawal
It’s begun
Her reddened eyes - puffy, swollen
And then -
Just a glimpse of something
A wink of treasure
Before the door is slammed
And I’m startled into silence
It was so beautiful
Sweet curve of a cheekbone
Delicate line of jaw, neck
Full, red lips
Thick curls of long hair
Long, coltish legs
I’ve become infatuated
Once again
She cries in complete anguished passion
Rocking in pain or
Melodic, laughing, side-splitting delight
Zen, she feels this life fully
Watching her, I do, too
A lump rises from somewhere below
Slides into my throat
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- All writing ©Cindy Ross Melton as dated unless otherwise credited
- Use of writing published herein is prohibited without author's permission
1 comment:
a drink from the river
you are eyes, mouth, verse, breast.
you seduced me with your wit and your smile.
now i am yours.
when it is there, i only need listen, you said.
no, not to myself
to the river.
i do not believe it
but the river is there, in the air
on some days it will flow to me, through me
exotic plant, pubescent girl, propellant poultry-
all in the riparian flow.
you wash me in the flow.
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