Part I- The Poem
Where Are
Your Eyes?
by Julie
Savoyski
[my beautiful,
kick-ass cousin who was foolish enough to go to school in the frigid artic-
(aka Maine)]
what are breasts
but mounds of flesh
rising from
the feminine chest?
So whats the
big deal,
there is no
unusual or unsightly characteric
yet heaven
forbid one should expose themselves?
and why would
such parts be revered and worshipped above all other parts of the female
anatomy?
So next time
you see me, be sure to look me in the face-
for you shall
get no reply from my chest.
Rock On- JuJuBe !
when something has been there that long, it's hard to rip it away. even if you didn't know it was there before. it's like a stain found on a carpet, under a couch, that's who knows how old. it won't come clean. like me. my paper is my mind, purging myself of these thoughts. my pen, the finger stuck down my throat. watch out, i might spew some more.
this is lust, intense infatuation. i realize this, but that does not mean that when you look at me i can't feel you, and when you leave me, i don't feel as though my heart is attached to a string on your shoe and is ripped from inside my chest when you walk away.
I
see the northern lights, like a rising phoenix and a burning flame, in
waves and convulsions across the early morning sky
the
stars shoot and dart among one another, some large enough to leave a trail
of stardust on the tormented atmosphere
a
brief glimpse of a great beast of the night, a swoop above the glaring
streetlight and it's gone
and
i share this with you, an eerily beautiful memory, in something better
than love, for it is painless, except when we must leave
i'm
not tired now, only confused and in awe of an experience i cannot fully
comprehend
You may contact my fabulous cousin, Julie (jujube, jewls) at sprklygwlz@aol.com
