sunshine seeps through blue dresses
and laughing echoes via open windows
with rays on my shoulders
and caresses on my nose.
splashes of rainwater glisten in the sun
with camisoles and lingerie above.
fulfilling stances of smiles and buoyancy
as i sway in my mary janes.
my snow-white blouse feels loose.
i inhale with ease
as the humidity offers a veil
over my bare shoulders.
the bitter moon has inched over
the prospect; the blue skies
have twisted and crooked to black.
dust lynches off disgusting, damp garments.
the moon hits the violet vests,
and cries are blocked by closed doors.
there is artificial light on my skeleton
and slaps printed across my face.
this deceitful place.
with obscure deceptions on every corner.
this circle of life really is bittersweet.
day is kind and night is not.
when the gangsters come out.
when mommy and daddy aren’t so ecstatic.
when brooklyn is authentic.
and your snow-white blouse feels tight.
This poem was inspired by an image I saw of laundry hanging over a tiny alleyway in Brooklyn, with a woman standing in the shadows of the sunlight at the bottom of the steps. Additionally, I tried to implement the use of sound in the poem - the first half uses a lot of soft sounds, describing the day, while the second half uses a lot of hard sounds, to describe the night.
