I’ve found myself wondering what trauma she’s gone through.
She sits there:
stout,
harmonious,
somber
NOW YELLOW
however she wears this yellow with the notion of moving on––
a moving on that is not fair to her––
one she doesn’t deserve
Who hurt her?
Who pulled her hair?
Who caressed her for too long
infringing on her girlhood
turning her to the wise 100 years young women she is now?
Who stole her lonely nights from her?
The scars on her belly,
on her left breast
teaching her that her body
holds more value than
her voice
Yet she still falls back
on the idea that he was too good to her––
misses calling him “baby”
misses being someone else’s
queen
SHE’S BLUE until she’s
reminded of his breath on her neck
and the involuntary tingle starting in her labia
that she tried to fight
but somehow his unwanted
tongue made her shudder
again and again
Yes, she’s missed him sometimes
LET HER YELLOW LEAVES FALL
Comments
Log in or register to post comments.