You were a boy never scolded, clearly,
yet, I, a girl, constant, under (fire)-(light)-footed.
Vigilant. Having nothing, having(all pretty pictures exclusive)
no personalities found within-
appearances, however, kept.
You were a boy rarely photographed, but dearly,
held within God's own mothering hand-in-visible
Having all, lacking (nothing was seldomly neglected)
and you were not even seldomly neglected.
there are pictures, inconclusive, but
our personalities
dictate
You were a boy never scolded-not molded-
I, a girl, precast, under fire.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
-
husband and I trek a mile for ice cream just for the creamy banana, crunchy pecans, and chunks of thumb-sized chocolate. shoes flipping and...
-
The Anchor for Joel When love embarks, with its generating propellers slicing through the interminable oceans of imperfection that are, for ...
-
Golden tendrils on her shoulder no rhyme, no reason, just getting older her half-pint work of exhaltation now serves as mere constant frustr...
-
lean in a little. say it like it's a secret. make your breath sound like italics. click your tongue against the roof your mouth then you...
-
all is up. a dreamy boy fills your legs with such a torso- he acts like your tongue is hard candy- and the crust in your eyes is cinnamon.
-
like me- it serves as a question as well as an appropriately foolish letter in bad company it only teams up with words like yodel, ...
-
wide-eyed and curious, he peeks from his shell with seaweed speckles, where 8 monarch butterflies landed permanently. he puts his footing on...
-
Ah, 7. The number in question. During this process of developing my first full-length work of prose, and a memoir to boot, I have considered...
-
July 9th i feel like running again. it's either that or swimming in a valley of tears. July 10th you couldn't tell by looking at us,...
-
when we are twisted up together-in blankets and the colors of the outside of our window- are washed out in the storm.

Quite a treatise on gender expectations and assumptions.
ReplyDeleteLove this insight!
ReplyDelete