Lay me down on a bed of pine needles
Remove my clothing, piece by piece
Place twigs and moss in my hair
And put daisies on my eyes
Evoke the spirits of the trees
Invite my ancestors to be in attendance
Sing from a place within you that has no name
Leave me knowing I am free now
Let my body return to the earth
Mingle with the leaves and the forest life
Know me, leaving, that I am everywhere
You kissed the scars
The carvings he made
On the inside of my thighs
Ugly remnants of his violence
And just like that
I felt the wound heal
Red, raw angry skin
Became baby-smooth again
“I’ve forgotten how to be in my own body,” she said
“I feel like I have woken up in a foreign land”
I took her by the hand
Led her down the the sea
“Sit down and let the waves remind you,” I said
We lay back, and with closed eyes
Became one with the ocean
The undulation, the caress and push-pull
We let ourselves be swallowed
And we became mermaids again
Bodies arching, diving
Arms moving through the water
Embracing the flow of the tide
She started crying tears of deeply relieved joy
And so then did I, to see her find home again
Our salt tears mixed with the salt of the sea
And when we finally returned to the shore and found our legs again
We took the ocean with us in the sway of our hips
And the pulse of our hearts
“Brilliant, just brilliant,” she said to no one in particular as she heard the sickening metallic sound of the car’s right front shank as it scraped along the cement wall that she had tried to avoid having to drive by in the first place.
Had it not been for the annoying oversized truck that had stopped just before the exit, blocking it, she’d never have taken the sharply curved driveway leading out of the parking garage at such a fast pace.
She didn’t stop to survey the damage – what was done was done – but as she drove off, she quickly began thinking of scenarios (other than her own road rage) that might help her husband take the news more easily.
Forlorn once was I
No hope was in sight
I’d fought hard to live
But felt I’d lost the fight
Were it not for my cats
Wouldn’t’ve made it through
How sad that’ve been
For I’d never’ve met you
Sometimes I still think everything would be fine
If I just had a deep-fried Twinkie or two (or three)
Or perhaps a few handfuls of Lilac chocolates
A half dozen chocolate chip cookies right out of the oven
A pint of Moose-tracks or Honey ice cream melted just to the right consistency
A big bag of Jelly Bellys, assorted will do, but plenty of Popcorn, Chocolate Pudding and Cherry, please
Some Banana Cream Pie
A box of salt water taffy
And unlimited funnel cakes
My sugar days are over, alas
But I still long for its soothing, sticky-sweet promises
Carnival-candy dreams for a happy life ahead
The high, the pleasure, the fullness, the love
I miss it all
But I know better
“Winsome, I am not,” she said through gritted teeth to no one in particular as she sucked in a third time and desperately tried to pull her usual size 6 jeans’ zipper up.
Sadly, it would not go past halfway, and she was left with the sinking-in reality that she had indeed put on some weight around her hips over the holidays despite her best efforts to be mindful of her sweets and alcohol intake.
She peeled off the betraying jeans with a few choice swear words, leaving them in a pile, and dejectedly put on her comfy sweat pants vowing not to eat again until those GD jeans fit.
“Yeah, that’s right. I’m allergic to you,” she muttered under her breath to no one in particular as she watched Phil Peters walk away from the water cooler in order to catch up to the passing ample sway of Georgina Johnson’s hips – which always seemed to be in some kind of competition with her tight knit skirts for space.
She continued to appear very involved in stirring the Cup-a-Soup she had just filled with hot water but inside her heart plummeted several stories to its usual bed of disappointment and resentment as she once again caught her own narrow, rather restrained-looking hips from the corner of her eye.
And upon hearing the annoying tinkle of Georgina’s thin, high-pitched laugh – the laugh she only pulled out for unsuspecting admirers – she turned her back to them both and made a beleaguered beeline for her desk.
Mightn’t I just lay down now
I’m so tired
Passed bone-weary last year
Let me just go to sleep
And never waken
Wish my beloveds a sweet farewell
There’s never been a moment of peace
I think I’ve earned some at this point
Maybe this has all been a random experiment
And my cell, never one that was expected to live
Maybe I beat the odds having come this far anyway
Maybe the Universe will sigh a sigh of relief when I let go
Maybe
“Well, now, won’t that be a treat,” he muttered under his breath no no one in particular after Nester Johnson’s wife handed him an invite to her annual Hogs and Heifers party, turned and walked away with a little backwards glance and a coral-colored-lipsticked air kiss.
While he thoroughly felt compassion for her seeing as how she was married to one of the most foul men he’d met so far in this Godforsaken town, there was nothing short of J Lo or Madonna being headliner at the party that would ever make him willingly choose to attend.
And with that, he tossed the invite into the bin, put a fresh toothpick between his teeth and returned to wiping down the bar.
Beyond the Skinny Branches 