Chipped Varnish and Veneers
I used to forget to wear shoes,smile at the other mothers,
the silver rings on my toes glinting
as they whispered in asides
'arty' their enamel teeth and Dior
lenses glinting, it is summer of course
and as a child we didn't wear shoes,
my feet are used to pinching stones,
I only hop when its hot, I think about
the beautiful beaded slippers
I was given as a gift, I wore them
constantly, until bead by bead
they fell scattering and then it was time
to move again and I invested in
fur lined boots but they made my feet
feel too cool, never hot enough,
as walking on a beach in Goa
where you slipped me a kiss and
vows were never said, I promised
myself a prince and on a dormant day
we sat prosaically in a fish restaurant,
staring at autumn ducks dabbling
in the harbour streams, a grey drizzle,
I watched my heart settle on the distant
tug that shugged slowly out to sea.
You ordering from a blackboard
my fingernails scraping until everything
tasted like chalk in the games we played.
Chipped varnish and veneers
nothing is ever as it appears.
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2015-10-19 at 18:53
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