The branches are dark against the sky and muddy patches of dead grass are exposing themselves beneath the weight of winter’s ice and snow. We are on the dawn of Spring and light rain is falling in Michigan. I am on a path of new beginnings myself as I prepare to start a new job in April and have recently celebrated my 37th birthday.
Writing has not been a high priority as I focus on my health and my career, as well as squeezing in time for my family and yet, it is essential to my health to continue writing to express what lives inside my soul. Lately, a stream of dreams has captured my attention. Upon waking, I struggle to claim the lively chases and romantic pursuits that tease my brain. From there, spawned this new poem about a girl caught in the lenses of another. I decided not to specify the gender of her admirer to leave it open. It is slightly dreamy and vague but I hope you will find something to like in it.
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Always, she has to go to the bathroom
but she never goes, preferring to hold it
until stars explode from her bladder.
She is the kind of girl who understands
drunk art bled from nightmares and
holds you responsible for carrying her down
steps at 4am. She is a nice girl though
you don’t know her last name.
When she baked turnips into chips, you tried
to crunch them down. She is only
the girl next door but you are fantasizing
kissing her sweet peach neck.