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

On Being Black and Blue

There is this word that I was always told wasn’t for me. “It isn’t something we use.” And when the world behind my eyes was too bright, pitched to the side, not quite enough. Old color, not quite black and…
Read
Random Post

a sonnet for george zimmerman’s wife

i’ve slept with many monsters woken up beside ogres big fangs flashing ready to gobble me up whole wondering where the man i loved went there were nights i spent hiding wrapped in quilts stuttering to officers that i did…
Read
Random Post

Sinking City

Beyond rescue, Miami is a cruise ship lost at sea with no lifeboats, throwing an all night dance party, music and stamping feet drowning out the sound of taking on water— but no,  not lost, the sea knows exactly where…
Read
Random Post

The Powerful Monster

The powerful monster combs his hair in the morning, and flosses his flat, white teeth. He has a drawer full of watches that only speak to him; telling time would be traitorous. His suits are silk, as are his ties—soft…
Read