my red satin dress
...is a show off, a rebel, a whore, a devil, a temptress,
a scorned woman, a mourned woman,
a Spanish dancer, a pole dancer.
It wears me when it chooses
jumps out of the closet and throws itself into my arms
takes me and grips until I
surrender
each leading kiss
each following touch
each yell
each scream
each godforsaken mistake
each blessing
it uses and when it's done it
abandons.
my red satin dress is the blood drops of each birth
each rip
each Christmas
each temper tantrum
each grazed knee
each healing touch
each wish
each hug
My red satin dress is the rose in my cheeks
the white on my throat
the sinning lover of the innocent pearls that
strangle.
It's a bush-fire boiling jam
a Jane Eyre metaphor
candle wax drops on rose petals
a Hawaiian sand scorch
a melting pot of volcanic proportions
a lioness showing teeth.
Its hunger is a carnivorous fiend
insatiable
my red satin dress is MINE.
No comments:
Post a Comment