Cinnamon Skin


Twilight falls
As a fried parfait.
Orange zest drizzled
On currents and cherries.

Her last night of escape
From the bleak city grays,
And the soot and salt crusted curbs.
A dessert tonight for her soul.

The sea surges in, she can sense its life,
Soothing, tumbling over her thighs,
Stirring, distantly exciting her,
Sand and warm velvet water,
Seducing her in a sandy caress.

The sky is settled now,
Stars, sugar on a bowl of blueberries,
Tossed across the dome of the sea's expanse.
A drape of dependable light
Speaking gently to this battered heart.

This life is a crossroads
Of dismal,
Of hope,
Of five Tangier and limes
Of a bowl from his stash,
Or a stiff martini,
A Xanex... and numb.
A cobweb of chemicals and clouds.

Each day her pockets throb,
Blackberry and cell,
Some rush to Delta.
Her mind's eye aches
More deals and confrontation.
Her heart trembles.
More life with the back of his hand?

She closes her eyes.
"Let their worlds do battle.
Let the least evil win."
She open her eyes,
Sorely tempted through the tears...

A life.

No more days withering,
No more existence in a tomb.
The sea surges in,
Soothing, tumbling over her thighs,
Sand and warm velvet water,
Washing over her cinnamon skin.

Why not here, why not now?

Trillllll... trilllllll...
"Hi baby!
Yes, I'll be home tomorrow.
How was school?"