Tags
Avatars, Characters, Incarnations, Lives, Metaphor, My nine lives and the tenth, Roles, Thursday Poets Rally, Thursday Poets Rally Week 25
I molded myself into a sculpture
So I could hold your attention as you finger my deep gashes
I spun myself into a fan
So I could dry the teardrops teetering on your feathery lashes
I hid myself in a picture frame
So you could look at me and think of pleasant memories
I wound myself into a clock
So you could glance at me while still in your reveries
I melted myself into the floor
So I could feel you walk your precious feet over my self
I bound myself into a book
So I could hold your thoughts poured out onto my pages’ shelf
I stuffed myself into a pillow
So you could rest your tired and aching head on me
I infused myself into a chalice
So you could drink from my depths and replenish your energy
I glazed myself into a mirror
So I could smile as you groomed yourself, peering into my eyes
I finally transformed into a woman
So you could hold my hand, kiss my cheek, and catch me by surprise
