lavage

good morning everyone.

 

 

 

of those alien days,

the one's after intense chemo-therapy,

your hair becomes lustrous.

Forgiving.

 

Laying in that way in which

a  slept on thing is laid

in relation  to

all things solitary.

 

Little daughters will sit

in your lap and say how,

like babies hair,

yours feel

 

So you surrender to the song

of loose textures. But want

to cry out

"i was near death"!

 

But vanity knowns what

spacing means. How it

agrees with

you buttressed

in the sun.

 

So you sit there in the

pale frequency of beauty,

lips forever sealed

as J.J.  was in that

episode of "Good Times"

when he thought he understood women.

 

Staying alive means your senses

turn to getting by,

not going thru. And dying

is what is stored as sacrifice,

 

for future use.

Reviews

[Corset]

Dyn-o-mite! J.J. is and was a God of sailor caps and string beans, and I loved the look his father would get when he was feeling frisky toward his wife, I was more into that strong father figure James, holding it together for his family, but i've always been a little square.

[J]

Your voice is unique, and with that uniqueness comes less views/comments because of the very nature of it... I suspect you're one of those writers like myself who don't suck up to the masses/who don't circlejerk for attention, if ya get what I mean.

This has a lovely rhythm and a sharp focus on those details which mean the world to both of us.
Refreshing.

[Emily B]

JJ had it going on, just sayin :)

when we get back to the hustle and bustle, who really has time to hear how close to death we might have been

that line veers, sometimes it snags those too young for the journey, sometimes it spits us back out on the living side again, no rhyme or reason

i am glad to breathe though