Stephanie

Hair swept back, sideways
big bug glasses, crooked teeth
nervous laughter mixing with
idiosyncrasies of those around.

You know something, something
that others don’t know. And you
share that with those who care,
those who you care about.

Moving through a land of education,
your education, what you want it to be.
Not what we want,
what I want,
what they want.
What you want.

Poetry melts your mouth, liquid lust
pouring from your soul
to paper, pen, keys, and
striking
striking
click-clack, type-writer typing
like hammers against anvils
like time against clocks

tick tock
strike the clock

don’t stop, don’t look back
be you
all you, always. All the time.

Knowing, caring, caressing
the words in your mind, on your paper
the tips of your fingers
dancing across
paper, through spider-webbed ink
a personal dance, only you know the
choreography
a macabre dance of desire
of strong will, love, hatred.

Hair flaming, taming your words
mind mapping, moving forward
towards a time of happy adoration
away from consternation
for a place you don’t belong, not for now.

To a place where you do
a happy you,
slitting along through cloudless skies
across waves of grass, shadows fly
and below them you sit,
reading,
watching,
waiting,
for the next step,
embraced for some time
And you pull your hair back, tight
above brown eyes.