Page One

Pouting
and danger
do not belong
in league
with each other.

Her leaf spring
smile
and her damaged heart
transpose
an emotional limp
with a flinch
as she waits
for his wrath.

So many times
in her upbringing
retribution
and anguish
the burning
of skin
the heaviness
of secrets
the silence
of threats
the under current
of her needing
to have
what was
given
so very destructive,
and now, is this
a menace
replacing the old?      

Not this time,
never this time
never again,
and her pink
satin lips
pursed
in retroflection's
deep heat
lead to no harm
in the arms
of this one
a master
a mister
a manner
no monster
her sanction
and protector
eyes resting
in sleep.

A Little news
from the front lines
she writes,
"Dear Diary,
today we played house
and we made
a garden of leaves
and I was the princess,
with everything
wanted
and more,
so lovely,
safe
and warm
from all storms."

runningturtle87