I’ve been working on memoir in my mind. Someday I’ll sit and write the whole of them. So, I visit my memories often, and I see the truth in them . Like a faded picture that’s lost it’s gleam. The envy of a school girl when our egos were stifling.
She has a jaw like cut marble, smooth and long as a pedestal and I thought as she tilted her head to the side, her pretty mind must hold holy uncluttered thoughts.
Hers must not be a tangled web unraveling. She smiles and the pearls dance in her mouth, teeth lined up and brilliant in a face too pretty to look at for long.
And she doesn’t stomp around like the rest of us. She floats ethereal in boots with buckles and I’m sure she rode horses as a girl. Bareback with her mane wild behind her. But now it’s cut short like a boys. Only the most beautiful girls can shear their glory and come out unscathed. And she does. She is all eyes and cheekbones and curved lips in a delicate face.
I am sure she feels the rush of the wind in her face every time she drives, i’m sure she turns off the ac and rolls down the window and I’m sure that she plays music and taps on the wheel as her foot is the only heavy thing about her, a brick pressing weighty on the gas.
I am sure she thinks in poetry. Surrounded by beauty , gulping down sweet tea in antique glass as she floats like brazen hope on her great granny’s porch swing. She tucks her feet up under her and scribbles in long beautiful slant. I plop down in a chair, pull the pillow over my belly and slouch down into it. Maybe I can disappear completely.
Her words drip from her pen like honey and I think I’ll stay awhile. I’ll visit here but only for a short time, my curfew is coming up soon and my parents will expect me home.
The clock ticks timidly in the night, afraid to encroach on my dreams.
I could learn to pray to God here. With the sun slanting just right. I could learn to tell the truth. I scribble and words jumble and if only I could master this pen the whole world would be righted.
You know the drill. Five minutes on the clock, the prompt this week is VISIT, then we link up with Lisa Jo, and jump into the glorious community awaiting all the brave writers that gather week after week to let the words fly.