(Afternoon Shadows, 2011)
*photo courtesy of Liz N

I fell asleep, dressed in a top and a pink petticoat.

One that’s seen dorm floors, twirling around
taken home on a bus,
barely fitting inside the bag.

One that’s seen New Years Eve’s, twirling around
with an accompaniment of bright red lipstick lips,
groggily ringing in the new year with flirty text messages.

One that’s seen rainy afternoons, twirling around
paired with cups of soothing tea
and drawing, careful not to spill pen on its layers.

One that’s seen nights of your fingers, twirling around
teasing me as I kick my covered legs at you
teasing you back.

One that’s seen birthday mornings, twirling around
taken out with cowboy boots
in January.

I woke up, dressed in a top and a pink petticoat.
Tossing, and turning, remembering once soothing memories
turned painful. The kind of painful that keeps you up at three in the morning
litstening to an audio book, trying to strain out the memories

unable to keep the fresh, kind, nice strands
unable to ditch the dirty, mean, rough strands

each memory still too hot, even though its been
days, weeks, months, years.

the carvings in my half dream mind, half awake mind,
taking on anthropomorpic qualities
growing in the dark,
covering my legs 

like the layers of a pink petticoat that’s seen it all.