Meanwhile...
***
Six Separate Thoughts - Part III
My scars are my best friend and painfully we show
He waits- a gentleman with outstretched hand
On display broken, seething bloody glow
My pride is a garment of sifting sand
He stands to the side while I flail about
For the storm to peter out
He laughs at my rage when I move as if solo
The lines within which I am free court cliffs
His correction abrupt when I push past where to go
Under my shoulder he helps my misstepsWe argue over ownership
Kingdoms via bodies and lips
It's lonely in the space of justified anger
How dare he prove and show my lack
In this way emotions can not linger
I was untethered 'til he pulled me back
His loving acceptance a lighthouse at sea
Returning home, not yet free
He massages my foot like he's invoking a shaman's spell
As if my deformation is his most prized possession
His thumbs are the lovers of my arches, ankles, heels
The somehow lost wholeness he calls to attention
And I can march to the tune of his love
My limp is a hitch kick on hold
He asks me to waltz knowing I won't really do well
As if my lacking dancer is somehow in session
He takes my wrists- holding smoke and steel
Touch whispers fly while my soul screams broken
From here to heaven I don't dare fly
His caress dreams that I try
***
For Seddy Bear - with three more to go before the end of November.
Tiffany Vakilian
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© 2015 Highlight Video Productions
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