He says that I have been making so many metaphors that I am starting to look like one.
I fall in love with those words, before asking for an example.
“Which metaphor am I becoming?”
And to my dismay, he can’t think of a single example.
It seems I’m always intrigued by the ones that say the right things,
but I’m also a sucker for things in writing:
Right now I am sitting in my car and wondering to myself:
Do I want someone who thinks of me as art
Do I want someone who makes me into art?
Mirror me while I mirror you
and maybe we’ll find things out about
ourselves that we’ve never known.
Maybe we’re more like each other than we think.
See, sometimes when I look at you,
I see myself…
And I may be losing it,
but isn’t this more than a reflection?
-you see you too, don’t you?
In case you were wondering, I finally cleaned the yellow glass lantern off my bathroom floor. I learned to love that metaphor, but not as much as the relief of trashing each broken piece. Today, two similar -yet unique in color- lanterns reside in the same place. They hold light and I’m sure they won’t break anytime soon.
I hope they won’t.
-more than a metaphor // refer to 12.03.17
Ripped, retro, ready,
she slips into her kicks.
You see, girls used to be pretty in pink…and heels, and
whatever else they say-
but today continues a new age:
one where rules are made to be broken and
fashion is whatever feels best on your skin.
My momma always says,
“Never leave the house without lipstick.”
I used to laugh before I realized:
some rules are not spoken to be broken-
and your momma is almost always right.
-pretty in pink lipstick
“Eat a hamburger.”
“You need to put some meat on your bones.”
“You’re the size of my thigh.”
“Do you eat?”
I hope I am more than my body and that no one makes you feel uncomfortable in yours.
Judith wears an old school heart.
She’s an empathetic record on repeat,
replaying each tune like it’s never been played.
Her vision presses far past the moonless,
rebuking every cecity.
And if you look in her eyes:
her old school eyes,
I promise you’ll always find something new.
-and so will she // Happy Birthday, Judy
Red cherry romance
Red cherry realm
Red, I’m really ready
to ravish your realm.
I hold you by the stem
myself I overwhelm
I try not to taste
this ruby red gem:
Red blissful Cherry,
I say one thing
and mean the contrary.
So, tell me would it be a total waste,
to not divulge
in a little taste?
To not sink teeth into
Flesh I’ve known:
a flesh much sweeter
than my own
A flesh so ripe
holds nothing too new-
just a Red that is red
after a season so blue.
-the waiting game