Monday, 31 July 2017

The Key

I have a light
In my little life,
Someone holds a candle
Someone else a knife.

One shines in darkness
The other in sunlight,
I could have hope
Or end this fight.

Two paths cross here
My state of mind.
Will it be damnation
Or hope that I find.

Someone holds a candle
Someone else a knife
Who holds the key
To my little life.

Thursday, 13 July 2017

Adolescent Memory

Humming to herself
she stood, half dressed
slip and bra already on
one foot upon the bed.
She rolled a stocking between
her nimble thumbs and fingers
not noticing my presence,
her angled reflection
in the bedroom mirror.
I spied the scene,
                 or victim.

She rolled the 15 denier ring
over her ballet pointed toe,
smoothing as she stretched material
and hopes
higher and higher.
Sheer material against still youthful skin
dark band contrasting the pale
translucence of her thigh.
Then suddenly she dropped her leg
smoothed down her slip
and closed the door
with a sigh.