Up, unwilling out of sleep’s sensuous pit. Again, the cry, thin, tentative. Fourth time tonight? Fifth? Cosy-rosy dreams fade. Windows, still winter dark. Time? Late—were there streetlights? Reach blindly for clock on table. Sleep-numb fingers touch but only push. Crash on floor. Shockproof? Hope so—hope so—Heavy eyelids flicker, warm waves drift towards slumber— Again, the cry, louder! So close, the warm, womanly, wifely...
Is one's essence defined by the age of the body, their culture, economic status, or gender? What are we without the context of time, gender, and culture? Tara's mother underwent a metamorphosis. Mildred wore different costumes of the mind. Each costume was unique, stemming from a different time in her life and drawing upon various life experiences. Alzheimer's disease sponsored Mildred's time travel. Tara remembers Mildre...
After everything that had happened, things seemed to be going great but I wasn't sure how long our good luck would last. Foxi had settled into the pack without a problem and like the others, she too looked to me as the leader. Which was fine until I found my mate. Nurse was the happiest mother in the world I would think. She had a new litter of pups and Tamer. The twin male pups were growing fast and were almost ready to...
Revenge would have to wait until Tame was well enough to move around more easily. So if he had to run for his life, he would be able to do so or at least run far enough to hide. Tank had gone off at first light. I wasn't sure what he was up to, but I hoped it wasn't something stupid like going after the rogues on his own. But my worry had been for nothing as he came trotting back with a rabbit bouncing around his closed j...
This is what I owe you My baby My Kate My memory It's that time of yearAgain I retreat Slowly First within closed curtains Darkened rooms Under the covers There are no dates or calendars needed None that can define How my mind drifts My body slows I cannot eat You were real I smell your newness In the oddest of places Hear you breathe The quickness of your heart Beating Woke me last night My body knows For this month I...
She sits alone in the turgiddarkness, her swollen breastsfull as a gourd, empty assin; missing his boneless gums. She weeps, but no tearscome; she is dry as tumble-weed. Herbelly opens like a Venus fly-trap tocapture one of those wrinkled little bodies, but there is no goingback. The darkness has takenhim.The mirror throws back a cowering dwarf, leering and grim. Her face peekstimidly from behind hishump. She can think of...
I would say That I could turn the darkest skies The brightest blue. And, maybe When you were younger, Your feet unsteady, You would have believed that I could. But, I am powerless. All that I have is The strength of my love, The length of my arms, The power of my intentions, My ability to give. I fail many times, Fall short of your ideals, But I also rise up From darkness To light For you. I realize I am...
As little girls we are given pretty little dolls to play with in order to nurture our natural motherly instincts. Sometimes the dolls would cry, perhaps even wee their tiny plastic diapers. We would nurse them with bottles that magically refilled themselves, feed them with plastic food that never had to be prepared, and bathe them without fuss. Best of all, when we were tired of playing Mommy, we simply put baby down for...
Who does my little girl run to when she is hurt or upset? Who holds her and comforts her like no other? Why, me of course, I'm her mother and like all mothers the love I have for my child is unconditional.My daughter believes I will love and protect her forever. I would if I could, but what she doesn't know yet is forever doesn't exist, at least not for us mere mortals. There will come a time when I won't be there for her...
