Collective Unrest

 

Melting Wax

August 22, 2018

When I gaze at my reflection
all hips and thighs
bulge around my middle
perfect pink pussy
grabbable and ready
scars and bruises
across skin

I am a clay doll
molded by fingers
of men.

I do not see
what I should-
all woman;
a little battered
by hands of time
upon her skin
but defined and
hourglass slim.

You are a woman,
I say to the one
staring back.
She smiles-
She knows it.

Eyes glisten and spark
lightning against sky
breasts firm and perky
twenty-five years
spent growing
into this woman

hips and thighs
promise sturdy,
sexy strength and power
hidden beneath curves,
an electrical current
flowing through veins
super-charged
Ready to ignite

The calm before the storm
is electricity flickering in her eyes.
I feel the charge racing off her skin,
live wires if I brush with fingertips
send me buzzing along with her.
Soaring through the night,
becoming one with the
lightning and thunder. ⚡️

I am everything
I have become
because of my mother,
my sisters spread far
across borders
Time stretched thin
like a candlewick
burning low
melting wax.

 

Tianna Grosch lives in PA and hopes to one day change the world with her words. Her work has appeared widely across lit mags and journals – see more at CreativeTianna.com and follow her @tiannag92.

Please follow and like us:
Newer Post

Five

People would rather feel right than be right. There are people who will tell you two plus two equals five. They believe it when they say it. A man, fifty years old, you could set your watch by him once.…
Read
Older Post

Watch the World Burn

When the world around you is burning, how do you strike a match to create your own flame? How do you burn bright amidst the coal-black soot that has come to cover us all like Vesuvius raining down on those…
Read
Random Post

Before @realDonaldTrump, I Used to Sing of Promise

One morning when I needed to shake the silence in my bones, I slipped out before sunrise and found the song I used to sing sitting on the ground by the dog’s favorite lamppost. I lifted it up and felt…
Read
Random Post

We Interrupt This Love Story for a Plot against the Tyrant

Timothy rode alone on the train to work. When he’d first moved to the city, the notion of trains excited him. He’d imagined it would be something sleek and modern, a fast and ultra-quiet hybrid of the Japanese Shinkansen and…
Read
Random Post

Pulse

I listened to the soft racism in the booth next to me. Heard it spread across the room, become sexist and then homophobic before it rested at my foot. Western Colorado is not all that unlike Utah, or Texas, or…
Read
Random Post

Work Walk Run

Introduction: I teach English to refugees from Laos, Cambodia, Bhutan, Afghanistan, Iraq, Congo and Syria. Verb Practice: Work, Walk Run is part of a series of vignettes, prose poems, essays and sketches called "Mysteries of English Class." They draw from stories by…
Read