poetry

O B S E S S I O N

The elevator arrives

And the stranger

Behind the door

Is beautiful but confused

He doesn’t understand her

Face –

The wonder and the anguish

I think I forgot something / she begins to backtrack

Fast – steps like leaps

I will hold the door

He tries to be kind / he reads the pace

Slowly – his hands drop

She runs now

And the door gets closer, larger

It’s a soft dusk

It’s a sanctuary of illness and pleasure

The handle is shapeless, and she pushes

it’s locked

 

yet she unlocks

click, grind, breathe

she locks and unlocks (seven is her lucky number you know)

click, grind, pressure builds (then snaps – its still locked)

she walks away in an afterglow

of pleasure and distaste

like a rushed orgasm when you need to fall asleep

last week, three time was good enough

where is her mind?

Lost Daughter

 L O S T   D A U G H T E R

Darkness,

She ran toward me

As if I were her missing daughter

Stolen from her at my midnight birth

A melancholic smile etched into her beautiful face

And she embraced me, stroking my dark tresses

Inhaling my jasmine lined skin that smelled like her

Darkness,

She drew me near

And she leaned into my neck

Whispering into my skin that I was home

She held me to her chest and told me to still

Like a mother to her child, she rocked me slowly

Telling me to let go of the strands tethering me to light

Darkness,

She begged I accept her

Warm and familiar lightless embrace

Loving me like only a mother can her lost daughter