Accidental Parenthood

EvilToasterElfEvilToasterElf Posts: 1,119
edited January 2004 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
The joy of accidental life

Cigar smoke clings to my sprawled hair
and blue pack mules carry the luggage
under my eyes
squeezed closer to my nose by the
vice of my two hands

I sit down at a glass table
staring at my shaking knees, with
my socks planted into the hard wood
like a white cactus in the empty desert,
planning for that distant summer storm
that folds the horizon and scatters the
timid vultures.

I can’t look up at the swollen belly,
of the 16 year old who once wielded
her own destiny like a wooden sword,
because her hunger to see the world
is a plate fit for two

The wardrobe which lifted her
delicate curves, with tight
jeans that wrapped like denim skin around her,
and sky blue shirts
that rose above the sparkling belly ring
on her stomach.
Which was as flat then
as her forced smiles are now.
Those clothes were all packed
away in boxes,
because her own closet made
her cry, maternity was not fit for
this mona lisa.
Post edited by Unknown User on

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