melissaahowells
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******** ******* ****** ***** **** *** ** * steering with my small unsteady hands I've turned the corners of my life steering into the fall often stumbling and skinning my heart my heart often exposed to the fall and wide open caught, too, in the dampness like the well-read used book left spine up on a dewy out all night Spring morning my pages bent backwards knowing that the spine (where my heart lives...) might bend too far and my pages might unravel and break apart and when dancing that same heart dared to wear see-through dresses hoping that my invisibility might be seen my waif-like tenderness hidden somewhere beneath two shelf-like breasts my navy blue eyes and smile and a ruffling skirt rising high over my knees my pulse matching the pulse of the music it was it is a freedom to live in my own made-up places for I belong to me looking backwards I'd like to snare an older piece of myself with my butterfly net being careful not to snap my wings I'm not yet an old-woman with broken legs but a girl always leaning forward looking for a breeze LEGAL COPYRIGHT FRO THIS POEM/JANUARY 22, 2022 8:08 AM PACIFIC STANDARD TIME TIME AND DATE STAMPED/ AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER/POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD NEARLY FULLY FORMED WHILST DOING THE FOREVER PILE OF LAUNDRY YESTERDAY AND FOLDED, THE POEM NEW AND UNWRINKLED ONTO THE PAGE TODAY...1/22/2022 Vote for this poem |
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