Sassy, red, orange, blue—-
Last look
I can do many things,
And never make a sound.
I can throw hundreds of pounds on my back
And pretend that I am not feeling my bones crunch, and muscles sprain under such pressure,
Because
Beautiful, sassy, sun
I got a last look at you.
I remember how each step of my aching heart would pulse old, putrid, acrid, ill-gotten blood from bad veins,
And the oxygen would crease into my chest,
Like a soft smoke curling from a deep, dark raven’s
Cry,
I read my messages of hope surging in my stories, not ever believing
Once upon a time was for me.
I also knew my own reflection,
But slowly it morphed into a murky, dark well
Of silent, wrenching pain
And black & blue baby tears that sunk into the shallow earth
Tumbling like mist from a mountain.
I have carried loads from many hills, up, up and down
That look like fried green grief,
And burnt up toast crumbled on my face,
I have no sense of pride of my clothes,
Cloth is grieving like a tortuous wrap
Around my curves,
Which I love,
But I want to be tall, tall, strong
As strong as I’ve had to feel,
As worthy as I assumed I am,
To show it to bright young sons of life and hope, Jewish and cheeks full of blood
And dreams.
Recurring a dream once,
Of bright sunshine
And a stream,
Of whipping grass,
Of drinking in laughs,
of one last
Look,
Of being myself in a rush of cloth that finally fits me right,
And how I can no longer keep sinking into the woods behind the old house,
The stream so shallow yet deep,
Of melancholy and warm This is
Only
A
Dream
About the Creator
Melissa Ingoldsby
I am a published author on Patheos,
I am Bexley by Resurgence Novels
The Half Paper Moon on Golden Storyline Books for Kindle.
My novella The Job and Atonement will be published this year by JMS Books
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