Medicine Man
there are 10,000 feathers in your perfect hair
the medicine man lays silk sheets
on my 2x2 clothes-strewn floor
he sows the holes in my socks
kisses the littlest toe on my sorest foot
not once am I not enough.
the medicine man throws the heavy curtains out on my suburban street
braids french lace along the empty rods
he tells me the Spanish sun will kiss you every morning
he tells me his LA mouth will be the first
he tells me he needs to be the first
there’s something about dripping red paint
on his too-cream-chinos
he groans for the art
the stains, he tells me, they wont scrub out
i cant help the glee when he takes them off
i cant help it but rub them clean
the art never comes out.
he doesn't once tell me not to go
he demands i follow the call
because he knows, god damn he knows,
the art flows where my broken feet go.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from Belinda Wood and writers in Poets and other communities.
BARE HUNTER
CHAPTER 15 I pulled up in front of Sandy’s a little early, so I texted Becca again and left a message for Sharon, hoping she had a good day and I’d see her tomorrow. Two cars pulled into Sandy’s driveway. I don’t know why I was surprised to see another man with her. We’d been apart for two years and I certainly didn’t waste any time getting back on the horse.
By Tina D'Angelo5 days ago in Chapters
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.