The day pulses within budding blue eyes.
She lays solo in the rickety bed -
a hand-me-down from a cousin removed.
Dust bunnies swirl and dance overhead
in the early morning sun, beckoning her awake.
The chill in the air sends goosebumps
past her threadbare nightgown
worn years past it's expiry date.
Peeling off her sprawling quilt,
she joins the already burdened dawn.

With noiseless footfalls, she creeps
to the crippled chair in the corner
where her favorite grass-colored smock
hangs - a token of love stitched
by cramped aged fingers, now silent.
Creaks echo, sounding as bullets, awakening
the aching chamber housing two generations.

The task to break their fast falls to her:
the sizzle of scent surrounds the kitchen berth;
A familiar routine partaken in duet.
Gratitude is given, utterances exchanged,
then abandoned to her role of domesticity.  
Lather and rinse, plates come clean
- a grind that is chanted again and again.

Deepening her breath, a sigh is summoned out.
Slipping away is a fixture encored:
a record scratching in her head.
Bypassing the large crack in the porch,
she tumbles down the steps of grandfather's house.
Each clip and clop wrench draining blows
to the descending wooden flight.
She walks down the pebbled driveway,
scratching raw the bottoms of her unshod feet.

A solitary spot calls from an aged oak tree
- branches droopy and weighed down
with a verdant embrace of an ivy blanket.
Ideas and dreams flare here, spent and shaped
- a sagging memento of her station.
Hours drift by, the warm summer day
aids like a balm to a frayed heart.
Swinging from her childhood tire swing,
careworn from similar seasonal passing,
she waits for her time in the sun.

Playtime ceased
laughter no more
memory and loss

Imagination fleeting
smiles and tender joy
leaping and running

Seeking and hiding
bonds mend and spirits fly
taking care with merriment

Under a charmed spell
precocious and undaunted
unconcerned with the hours

A blink of dark eyes
gone in an instant
ripped through grasps

Echoes in time
wrought with tears
and forgotten events

A bend shows in my pathway
ahead. A chilled breeze
knocks against my brain.
Fiery hues surround my
reflections. Missing her
laugh and embraces.
Warm memories floating
like scenes in a storybook.
The leaves maintain their turning
and life keeps moving on.
So I'll journey down this path
that we walked in days past.

Drops of sweat, beading and clinging
    breaths of pleasure, carefully singing
          motions carried to and fro
              sighs embracing, craving hello.

Darkening passions never descending
    grasping onto desire bending
          tender night allowed to grow
              devotion displayed in overflow.

Lasting memories forever deepening
    emotions aflutter, gently careening
          hoping against what we know
              twilight consumed so long ago.

With reckless abandon, I tearfully love
Nearby the carefree heart is laid
Lashes of eyes so greatly beloved
With reckless abandon, I tearfully love
Passion ensued in wishes above
Quietly grinned a serenade
With reckless abandon, I tearfully love
Nearby the carefree heart is laid

The mirror is not my friend today,
just like it wasn't last week.
The reflection I see when my eyes peer in
makes me cringe with each sob,
showing a person I'm not sure I remember,
or one that I don't really want to.

"Not today!" I plead with what I see.
"I promised I would try harder!"
Yet that girl stares back,
disfigured and worn. Imperfection
reflected in the smudged glass
I can't look away from each morning.

Her eyes are too down-turned,
dripping pain down her face.
Her nose - too large - a flaw
she got from her grandpa.
Her shoulders - too broad - hold
her head too low, and her
thick arms she got from her mom.

Too small lips, a pointy chin,
and a wide forehead besides.
Two *******, scrutinized, on her chest:
sag from nursing two babes.
A dimpled stomach, with a wide placed scar,
usually camouflaged with lumpy clothing.

A pinch of fat here, dinner
skipped will make her feel a bit better.
Boxes of rouge to define what she can.
Necessary changes, needed to feel right -
Hours spent trying to fix what I can't.
Beauty hidden behind the reflection,
someone I won't ever meet.

"I tried." I whisper to the empty space.
"I'll never see what they see."
She turns her back to me,
the reflection no longer staring back.
Try again tomorrow, I'm reminded.
Maybe then I can leave my home.

Eyes of pure glass
piercing my soul,
deeper into my heart
until my heart is careened.

Lips as soft as silk
speak words of life,
flowing gently in my ears
like a lover's gentle caress.

Hands as strong as steel
grab hold of mine,
clutching at every moment
as though to possess me.

A man in perfect form
fools with my emotions.
Daring to control me,
I am left wanting.

A love so strong
endures a lifetime.
It overtakes my being and leaves me
breathless...
and
waiting...

Nervous in her life station,
she tries to contain her anguish.
Her changes show compulsion:
a default haircut to appease,
posture straight to put at ease.
A variant of herself in paint
stares back from the dingy mirror;
A convict so fallen,
infected with poison to testify.
For the value of the hustle
they pander to combine.

Her whisper of wording, in ears,
given in platitudes to entice -
ease her anxiety. She feels
like a suspect in contradiction.
The laugh in her head is cutting,
though musical to the lustful
climate in her employ,
and the benefit of the coup
will keep her on the narrow highway
they have violated her on.
She will soldier on. It is
central to her survival through the lies.