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mother's clothes

sometimes instead of being a live wire
i just want to be the cat on the chair
lying there in an ecstasy
that can only come from
the inner solitude one feels
in their own domain
strange to call a space yours
a space that was there long before you came
and exists well beyond human reign

sometimes instead of being there
i just want to feel the waves like
white milky fingers tiptoeing over
eye lids, fingers, and toes
gives one a floating sensation like
an embryotic tide that ebbs and flows
and visions of nipples and bottles
send me into fits of prenatal prose
as i dance around in high heels
trying to fit into mother's clothes

sometimes instead of being right
i want more than anything to be
horribly wrong
disfigured and distmanteled
i could rest peacefully here
hiding behind the shadows we create
from broken toys and senseless fear
i think if i can turn down the lights
i no longer need the mirror
and everything for a moment seeems to slowly disappear

sometimes instead of being anywhere but here
i just want to be happy where i can
to take every moment
and live just to breathe
let my muscles do the thinking
and let my instincts teethe
teach them to walk and talk so i can forget
what i have been given to believe
and open my arms wide enough to let all my inhibitions grieve


-Krista Puppolo

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