
A Visit
After all these years
he says
you still make me nervous
It's hard to believe,
coming from someone
who remembers when I was a girl
that'd never had
her shirt unbuttoned.
But that's been him
since fourteen--
soft-voiced and shrinking,
a night-blooming flower
that curls up
when I shine my light on him.
And that's been me
putting my finger
between the petals
trying to coax them open.
Talking with him now
I can beam the way I used to.
He doesn't know
who I've been
in between.
He never saw me
grow dim.
He only remembers
the girl who wore
bright colors
without fear.
I hope they both
stay a while.
More poetry
I love this one. So, I started using google reader to read all my blogs in one place. But for some reason, your RSS or whatever is broken. :( But that means that you're just special enough that I come here anyway. :)
Posted by: Jenn on December 19, 2006 09:48 AM
About me? I'm one big, raw, exposed fucking nerve. What else is there to know?New Rule
Buzz
Why I Don't Answer Before 4pm
Well, well, well
Revenge of the Cyst
I Will Survive. Probably.
Thank You
Where the hell I've been
A foulmouthed tart
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