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I'll be whomever you
want I should be
The last four years I've spent
pulling away from my family
Digging my heels deeper daily
struggling and grasping at traction

Different women came and went
while I was finding purchase
Mother's tears slick enough to
make me slip, I swam the deluge.

A great divide
Between our eyes
Continuously loathing the longing I feel
for the people I'm the most afraid of.
A loose wool-knit sweater had holes in the pattern,
through which her skin was visible both above and below
the dark sports-bra wore stretched across her *******.
I could see the thin straps draped over her collarbones,
and thought about the lines they leave in her skin.

Yoga pants squeezed her legs underneath of thigh-high socks,
and both were layered below tall leather boots with low heels.
An olive green fatigue jacket hung open around her and
was adorned with a colorful scarf that lay claim to her neck,
its tassels curled and bounced with each step she took
mirroring precisely the loose curls in her fair hair.

Finger-less gloves left her free to feel the texture of the
pages she turned one by one in a book pulled from the shelf.
She had sat down right in the aisle, planting herself in front of
the poetry section inside of a crowded Barnes and Nobles.
Sitting there with such an elegance, I lack the words for it,
completely unnoticed and free from the numerous
holiday shoppers that were carefully stepping over her,
books in their own arms, and heading for the cash registers.
The boardwalk itself did sheen with a collective sweat,
basking in the orange glow cast by the approaching sunset.
All remaining heat of the day was begging my body for night,
Through my shirt the sun burned, my skin cursed the light.

As the sun became a semi-circle and was concaved by the horizon,
I was on the dark piers utterly awestruck, whilst putting my eyes in.
We could see them down on the beach, each more painted in crimson
and, as the night progressed due East, all the people stood and listened.

And I glanced at the sun after it was far too late,
the rays had gone and my memories changed.

Leaving me staring at the back of my eyelids.
 Jan 2015 Rose Claire
PrttyBrd
This poem has been submitted for possible publication.  It will be reposted as soon as possible upon final determination.  Please feel free to peruse my poesy at your leisure.

Thank you so much,
PrttyBrd
1114
For Him
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