We turn away
from the gazing other
whether it is the pierce
of the question asked or the
response within us, we
shift on our hip, collectively
avert our gut, completely so
our eyes don’t tie our
secrets in a big, purple bow
proclaiming, “Here! Take
us….”
In our turning our
silence shouts “my privacy is
mine to behold, separate. Away from our
sour breasts, pock marked thoughts, shudders of
remembrance - our back is the
closed door
You are not welcome here.
====
Some worlds are very private, closed to prying eyes. So it must be. Adore the lines...
"whether it is the pierce
of the question asked or the
response witin us"
Lovely poem.
Posted by: Gemma Wiseman | August 31, 2015 at 12:59 PM
Beautiful
Posted by: DeeDee | August 31, 2015 at 11:48 PM
Stunning take my favorite so far. She is turning away from us in the painting.
Posted by: Bekkie | September 01, 2015 at 09:43 AM