ruined

*somewhere in a steam-filled bathroom*

a fresh shave can
be annoying---she
scratches her cooch, washes
her hands, and lites an
incense.
*erases fog from mirror with finger tips*
what has become of her?
timeless eyes that look
deep into the souls of man.
time isn't as precious, nor
are the events She has planned,
but her reflection reminds her
that life could be worse
than it is.

the hand is dealt.
she's played every round,
tossed every trick,
reneged so often, she can't
even remember what is what
and who is who.
while staring at herself,
she notices the tiny mole
on the tip of her nose,
she smiles. a marking
she and all of her siblings have.
the smell of
burned cinnamon fills the air,
inhaling what could be
life to her in the past,
she remembers nag champa,
musk, and vanilla essence.

*grabs towel from rack*
she dries every curve,
noticing the inches
and angles she's gained.
a tease rite now would
be good to/for her.
*he looks at her reflection too*
her smile leaves, movements
become hurried, and what was
once an inviting smell has
turned into overdue shit.

he wants her.
he needs her.
she's been wanted before.
she's been needed before.
she's been "there" before
and he... can't seem
to understand,
it has left her feeling
ruined.

©Tremaine L. Loadholt/Tuesday, June 01, 2004










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Gee thanks for the
©Ra