Christine E. Ray's Blog, page 11
February 18, 2024
Where the sidewalk ends
where did your colt legs carry you
the day you ran away
small pack
set upon
determined shoulders
overstuffed with much-loved books
slightly crushed snacks
a hastily chosen stuffed bear?
did you hesitate
before stepping off
the gray pavement
where dandelions
fought their way
through the cracks
raising their yellow
and green heads
with proud resilience?
did you stand
gathering courage
at the edge
where the safe
met the forbidden,
where the sidewalk ends?
did freedom and
danger
dance like twin butterflies
in your stomach
as you took that step
into the unknown?
did you twirl in the late
afternoon sun
thrilled with your daring?
how long did you roam
those green fields
imaging castles on the hill
fairies watching from the trees
a dragon dozing in the cave
before your growling stomach
and the growing dark
lured you back home?
© 2019 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved
February 17, 2024
kaleidoscope
we came together
broke apart
glass fragments tossed
in a kaleidoscope
tumbling into each other
beautiful
trembling
symmetrical patterns
captured briefly in the mirror
before the spin of the wheel
pulled us apart
leaving our jewel tone edges
aching from separation
Image courtesy of James Houston/Move
© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved
February 16, 2024
Fire
The sheets with tiny pink rosebuds, incongruously innocent, are tangled beneath us. Your lips travel slowly down from my earlobe to my neck, marking your territory. You stop at my collarbone; nipping it gently with your teeth before lifting your head to look at me.
Our shirts are lost somewhere on the floor, my bra discarded on the bed along with our socks. Jeans and underwear create the only barrier that separates us from each other’s skin. I want to know your skin as well as I know my own. Every scar, every freckle, every tattoo, every perfect imperfection.
Your hair is damp with sweat as you balance above me. Your eyes are dark, intense, questioning. I involuntarily bite my lip. I am already anticipating your fingers deftly unbuttoning, unzipping, removing the obstacles. You take me out of my always busy head, reminding me that I am flesh, I am fire when I am with you.
© 2017 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All Rights Reserved
