Her Shoes
It's hard to summon your inner badass when you're tripping over your four inch Louboutins.
Spiky footfalls ring loudly
Conspicuous
Unmistakable
They echo in the hollow concrete chasm
A modern anthem of absurdist ideals;
A self-imposed handicap,
Underscoring her vulnerability
Three million souls in this seven mile city,
and where are they now?
Not on this long tall stretch of dark,
Unless, perhaps, they're all hiding…
A nervous laugh at the silly notion
And yet; she surely feels their groping eyes
Weightless yet invasive
The chill breeze lifts her hair, her hem,
her heart rate
Adrenaline is the purest, cleanest high
Why else the two hour wait
for the two minute ride
At Magic Mountain,
Busch Gardens
She recalls his face,
so beautiful in the gloaming
Eyes lit with vicious good humor and beer
“I can fuck up your hair for free;
Ride through,
No waiting
Her stomach dropped
as she floated up, up
They left his credit card
at the bar
Out of the darkness
onto Market
Ambient laughter
Her bus unloading
The spell is broken
Like her heart
But she lives to fight another day
About the Creator
Eva Marie Chastain
"Don't bend; don't water it down; don't try to make it logical; don't edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly."
~Franz Kafka
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Inshallah
Istanbul is a city bristling with life, a place where past and present, sacred and profane, intertwine under the watchful gaze of the Sultan Ahmet Mosque. As I explore this crossroads of cultures with Maya, my nine-year-old niece and the daughter of my late brother-in-law Frank, and my wife Nadia, Frank's sister, I find myself on a journey not just through Istanbul's history, but also into the depths of my own beliefs. Staying with Maya and her mother Elvan, my sister-in-law, I begin to see the city anew through their eyes, and to understand why James Baldwin said it "revived" him.
By Geoffrey Philp 4 days ago in Wander
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