Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Her Life, Her Not

She strapped her breasts, diminished
her glory -- cursing undue attention

from women. Her wall was never high
enough to hide her garden. Barriers

are colored passion. Seeing was knowing
who we were meant to be. Kate sexed

none she loved. She saved this for those
confused. Remembering her gate down

Peoria Avenue daisy chains me: effervescence
of post-pubescence not yet devoid of hope.


4 comments:

  1. Nice images. This poem grows on me upon rereadings.
    Best to you, my friend!
    Dorothy (not anonymous)

    ReplyDelete