Monday, March 08, 2010

Flora

My memories of her
are dim
like the spiderwebs
of sleep
left over in your mind
early
in the morning.

Every thought brings only
a blur.
Long, thick, black hair
red lips
Softly manicured hands
slim waist
Perfect hourglass figure
smooth legs.

The occasional apron reaching
to her knees
She pops her foot up
and smiles
that perfect, radiant smile.

I remember now,
remember the envy
jealousy
covetous rage
in my heart.

I idolized her.
I wanted to be her.
She stood on that pedestal
sneering down at me
with her stupid
charm.

But now
after so many years,
here we are
in the same
sad
sinking
depressing
waterlogged
boat.

1 comment:

justfrancesca said...

Is this like "Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing"?