by Katie C.
Aha! Oh radiant beaming home of bright shining eyes. Loving warm glow overflowing to caress my cheeks in fairy dusts of love.
Where have you been? What drawing force has called you out to play?
When fear knocks she creeps and slithers at the orifice of my being. My only sin, I open to let her in.
Etched with years of sunken, swollen pot-marked skin laden in shadows she proclaims her parade across my face, blasting and pounding her vulgar display.
She cackles in epic shrieks and shrills, her claws curling and clenching the stagnate ether of my spine.
Guilt, oh cousin and fire of fear, puncturing the erect composure that makes me human.
You demonic illusion! What is this power you have to return again and again?
Oh oceanic force of persistence: Yes, the tide will pull away, leaving her vulgar claw marks in the sand.
But here, this ancient beauty! The tide is high and full again today.
I know this one that smiles at me now.
Her familiar glow melts and soothes reflections of scars to liquid flowing honey.
This one who smiles from fields and grasses of milky childhood dreams.
Who peeks from under heavy laden lashes of blossoming adolescent complexities, blinking in the light between tenacious leaps and pricks of fear’s persistent shadow dance.
Who glitters in sparkles and sunlit rays that burst her heart in summer love and fantastical promises of always and forever.
Ripping open phobic cobwebs and scattering their dust to beam unhindered radiance at the red, pinched face daughter sliding from her body, crawling to her breast to infinitely shatter her heart with love unconditional.
Whispering through the fabric being of her son, emerged from heart of womb to logically and perfectly articulate her experience of truth with his existence.
Emerging in elfin allure of tantalizing scandals to kiss, touch, taste the woman she could never have.
Why do you show yourself this ordinary day? Perhaps it is a choice I make, to keep the fear at bay.
4 thoughts on “Katie C. reflects beneath the surface”
Intriguing, engaging, mysterious, dripping, revealing are descriptives I offer to “The Relection” which reads as voyeuristic guilt to read about private thoughts. The phrases are rich, scattered and provocative enough to warrant many readings. I would love to hear this poem read outloud by the author.
Wow… and that’s all I can say. The images you flung around left me dazzled and holding my breath. Wow!!!!
Poetic, handed down from the obscure; not your Snow White and the seven …
Your choice is excellent, so is the story.