Wednesday, July 27, 2011


Forgive my long absence.
I have been held hostage, wrists
chafed and limbs withered,
so long
his attention wavered, his delusions
shifted and I fell
outside his peripheral view,
as silent
and fast as I could, a snake
tasting the air blindly
with each flick of pink tongue,
on a desperate search
for home. Now, I think,
I am back, but muted;
concealed; my stripes hidden.
I don’t dare risk capture again.

Rachel Westfall
July 26, 2011


christopher said...

It's Complicated

Shedding years again,
as if newborn, shiny pink,
I act innocent
and offer myself
molted and muted standing
on the high stony
top of your rampart,
if a gift, then brass moistened
by blown melody,
me the young trumpet
of my renewed hope for love
while I hold your heart.

JULY 27, 2011 4:12 AM

Anthony Duce said...

Enjoyed. A wonderful escape…

RachelW said...

I want to trust that, Christopher. Hmm. Something about the act still makes me feel a bit suspicious. Maybe it just doesn't smell quite right.