I take a finger and twirl my hair
and feel the pulling on my skin,
it is a welling from within,
a wish for your fingers to run through my locks,
and caress away the wounds of life unfair,
dreams broken on the days hard rocks.
I take my hands and make a braid
while I fume at was left unsaid.
It makes my features more severe
and hides that gnawing inner fear.
It presents a face to open air,
that I wish you could boldly kiss,
but you are not there.
It is your eyes gazing on me that I miss,
your absence makes my world remiss.
I take the scissors and cut away,
the straight strands that I bound today,
and expose my neck to other eyes.
Inviting those forward looking spies,
to invade this surface that you once mapped.
I wash my head of all my sin,
I know as we argued my ear was of tin.
I did not hear your cries of need,
to save hearts that now alone bleed,
and in our cages of sullen pride are trapped.
I walk into the teaming crowd,
wishing I could swoon for you aloud,
rather then repent and let you go.
I pray to angels who cannot be,
to take the and I back into we.
I pray to imagined gods up above,
that I without you can find my place in love.
[And two others on raise the red lantern:
Whoregasm and The Dance of Three.. It isn't that I am feeling bad about men right now, in fact two of these poems were started some time ago, it has just been a day for getting things finished....]