I continue to fantasize
the curve of my body curling
down to be emcompassed
by a neverending sheet
of white silk, transparant yet
masking my skin-tender from
Abuse and hardship.
I fold and the silk envelops
my sorrow.
Insecurities.
I am a child. It's heart in the breast
of a woman
full grown,
stripped of motherhood.
Everything lingers. In the heart.
The mind.
All of our struggles and hardships
Shaped and tucked away in the nooks
created in the deepest
most buried compartments of
my consciousness.
I pray for relief.
To no God.
No. To a dream.
Of silk chiffoned silence,
Hushed mouths,
Repressed anger.
Truth masked
in comedy.
No comments:
Post a Comment