at 45

at 45
she masquerades as a writer
but her soul costumes
and so the dining room table is covered with scraps of
velvets chiffon peau de soie ribbons dyed cheesecloth
the rug stuck with pins draped with ribbons snakes of threads
in vermillion lapis forest rose ghost grasshopper jazz blood
no color just a color
instead a mood a personality a dance
a song
costumes half costumes hang from door frames curtain rods
impromptu closets inside out closets
every so often a flurry
and all the boxes bags sewing machine costumes are carefully
laid in the back of a rapacious car until there is no way
for a driver to see out any window

at 45
she cannot eat
hunger shoved deep within her mind
gone from the rest of her body
so that her body is eating itself silently quietly
when she isn’t looking
with each day she eats less food less interesting not needed
she will eat air
her eyes filled with costumes with color her soul
too full for food
too full for hunger

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1 Comment

  1. January 24, 2011 at 10:04 pm

    ,.. I am really thankful to this topic because it really gives useful information ~`;


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