I leaned forward, an ache in my stomach was only numbed by the want to touch my lips against the print left by her’s ….
would the universe aid in my ignorance and let them match..( O , these are mine! I had just forgotten about that tryst) could I, Would I, be able to taste her still…?
I breathed in the sickening scent of an untamed ego and decided to fall….on the floor for just a moment…to gather my self…
my many broken selves
There goes my arms….pale and strong
There goes my eyes
Green and wide
Give back my legs…they swayed me to my knees…
Come….let’s talk….I beg all of me
( my soul scatters like bugs on these type occasions…it is a feat , a particular lure, that stays low… And sings and cracks
…and they gather to my bones like a light has been shone)
And then I walked the shirt to the fireplace , and prayed for strength as it burned a thick orange hue.
Ah….I smell her perfume
Strength
( I yearn through clenched teeth)…
O give me 10 men’s strength!
because later,
I was going
to put him there too….
© Copyright, Lela Cintron 2015
Response to our Inspiration Call on September 4, 2015
www.facebook.com/Creativetalentsunleashed
Photo Credit: © Radius Images/Corbis/Royalty Free Photos
Categories: Featured Writer's


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