Small town Woman,
finding Her own.
A debutante:
In a class of Her own.
No matter what people say,
Got dough?
Still gotta pay.
Like righteousness,
Fire running through,
Living in Her spirit--
all we need to brew.
Like the wolf: Sparkles in Her eyes.
Her pack holds more wieght,
bags unda d'eye,
Damn I gotta take a look.
It's all in the book.
The Pocketbook:
Money never goes dry.
Play the hook:
I gotta hear this Dove cry.
Her pain,
Her anguish,
Running through my spine.
When the pain came,
I took it all in,
now it's mine.
In time,
Reflective thoughts make Her pain His.
Even though it was just one moment,
not even a kiss.
Breath His emotions,
Feel His love,
Hear His call.
No matter what Her intentions are,
Envisioning Her eyes shootin' at the stars.
Only wishin' to have one small part of Her.
The hole:
This conflict of feelin's yearns for Her.
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1 comment:
I utterly adore your concept of imagery, from this one, I can feel this person, your debutante is almost recognizable, I can smell her, this one is an interesting one because from the outsiders perspective it seems something like a sort of lustful relationship gone out of the window, reaped with pain, sorrow and anguish, like your presentation today there is always more than one meaning to everything, which definetly justifies your work being entitled the "Double Entendre" The line where you say “Reflective thoughts make Her pain His,…. This conflict of feelin's yearns for Her” Allow me to feel the narrators feelings and emotional constraints, I won’t lie it confused me temporarily, but overall this is a very fascinating selection.
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