Meet Your Meniere's!

Girl In Black

I am the girl in black

I wrap myself in blind heartbreak

thick and dark as pitch

The people have branded me

a witch of sorts

What facile assumption!

I, my dear, am a werewolf

I have no need for spells

or dolls with pins

I have claws more caustic

than a scorpion's sting

Teeth that tear through flesh

easy as butter

Men fear me

I am blood

and bite

I am tides

and howling at the moon

They hunt

what they can not understand

or possess

Are you afraid?

Come a little closer

Can you detect my scent?

I wear my blood like perfume

It is quite enticing

once you get past the gore

I know what you're thinking

"She'd be wild in bed"

Well, come lay with me

and I'll show you wild

I will devour you

Savor your taste

on my tongue

and lick my lips 

when I am finished.

submitted for Magpie Tales Mag 278
and The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 207
and Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Tuesday Platform

Sarasota Summers

Children Playing on the Beach by Mary Cassatt

I walk along the ocean's edge today

I feel the warm, wet sand beneath my toes

Remembering the times I used to play

With grandmother in summers long ago

Collecting seashells buried in the sand

Like treasures waiting just for us to find

Along the beach we wandered, hand in hand

Our shoes as well as worries left behind

And though today  I walk the beach alone

I still keep my eyes cast upon the sand

To search for seashells even though I'm grown

Our treasures there to seek within the strand

I gaze upon my shells and feel so blessed

Those Sarasota summers were the best!

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, The Edge

Scarecrow

artwork by Eoin MacLochlainn

You let loose your crows

to pluck the grains from my splintered heart

I stand in the field

cracked and open

Bones escaping skin

Blood colored earth

red clay beneath my collapsed form

A broken scarecrow

Plucked too clean

to even crawl away

I tried to protect what was mine

But your talons were razors

against my flesh

Your beak too acute

Go on and scatter the seeds

of my trust

Your garden will grow to be

such an attractive quilt of lies.

submitted for Sunday Whirl, Wordle 206

Swimming Lessons

Bathers, 1950 by George Tooker

The smell of chlorine and sweat

stings my nose and throat

My feet scrape against

unfamiliar concrete,

step in puddles 

of warmish water

The sickly sweet scent

of suntan lotion

fills the air with

artificial coconut

My bathing cap

covers my head

in gaudy rubber flowers,

the strap pulled too tight

I gaze around the grass,

try to find an open spot

to lay my towel

and glasses

Now I am a mole

in the overbearing sunlight

I want to tunnel

back underground 

Here I am too exposed

My pale skin protests

the scorching light

Shouts and laughter

of other children

are a foreign language to me

I am an outsider

I know my otherness

will be discovered

any moment

Whistle blows

shrill and ominous

The lesson begins

Cold water assaults

my skin,

uncovered and unprotected

We line up

at the diving board

I feel like a cow 

being herded to slaughter

One after the other

the children jump and dive

Then it is my turn

I feign confidence

and walk to the board's end

pray silently to Poseidon

and jump

The sting hits 

my belly

as it always does

My nose fills

with water

My eyes

with tears

I climb up the ladder

Bright red slap on my belly

and a matching one

on my face

I look at the clock

and calculate 

how many more assaults

I must endure

until the hour is

over.

submitted for Magpie Tales, Mag 277

Burn

The darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain their neutrality in times of moral crisis. Dante Alighieri

Black woman dared
climb above white men
Silenced hatred
Led away
in handcuffs
Black churches
burn to ashes
Barely make the news
Black men
black boys
shot by white police
again
We shake our heads
Baltimore burns
with anger
and hopelessness
We turn off the TV
Hell is on the way
It's coming for us.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Flash 55 Plus