Damp, Not Dry

Posted by 3RueSleidan

First the face and neck
Then dry left shoulder to wrist
Right arm the length of which
Reaches into the air
Chest, breasts, over and under
Down the core
Then up to dripping hair

A tussle with terry cloth
Leaves hair damp, not dry
One corner in left hand
One in the right
The back and forth motion
Travels the nape of the neck
Clear to the curve of hips

Take a break from
This well worn ritual
To cleanse the mind
If only for a moment
To breathe in the day
Eradicate what ails
Right the world’s wrongs

Erase remaining droplets
From left leg and foot
Notice a razor is required
Then right leg down to toes
Rehang the towel
Time for talk radio
And a fresh, new morning

Leap Day

Posted by 3RueSleidan

Fast and furious
Speed toward infinity

Ripe for castigation
Or maybe scintillation

Leap into the abyss
All for just one kiss

The Sting

Posted by 3RueSleidan

of the palm
as it reaches
the cheek,
the innocent
cheek, all
glowing and pink.

The pain
of the sting
as it crosses
the lips,
the sensuous
lips, so
worthy and free.

The wrath
of the world
as it crushes
the head,
the pulsating
head, once
brilliant, now dead.

The sound
of the crowd
as it mimics
the man,
the jabbering
man, once
noble and proud.

The hush
of the wind
as it drifts through
the hair,
the beautiful
hair, all
silky and clean.

The joy
of the girl
as she opens
the lock,
the garden
unlocked, now
sodden and flush.

The birth
of the bud
as it carries
the sting,
the heart-wrenching
sting, all
hidden and fine.

The cry
of the babe
as he wants her
to stay,
the boy not
at play, so
tearful and pained.

The sting
of the palm
as it reaches
the cheek,
the hardening
cheek, all
knowing and deep.

The pain
of the sting
as it crosses
the heart,
the withering
heart, no
longer a part.

Same. Same. Same.

Posted by 3RueSleidan

Polka dot dresses
Pink bows
In our hair
My baby
And me
What shall we wear?