Nonpareil — NaPoWriMo Day #29 — a poem about healing my inner child and embracing my inner goddess
Where have
you been
half my
life?
Missing.
Present but absent,
you played the role
and flimflammed them all
but I never stopped
wailing for
the you
that I knew.
Persian blue pumps
clicking their way
down haunted hallways,
nonpareil necklace
wrapped around
the throat
of a songbird—
you were youth
dipped in holy water
and set ablaze.
Everything you touched—
even the tragedies—
turned to art.
Exploited.
Appreciated
to the point
of appropriation,
your gifts were trafficked
until you hid your magic,
but something
so beatified
could never
wither and die.
Pages packed with ink
stuffed in alcoves
and filled with knowing,
life's lessons
woven through
the heart
of a longhair—
you were aged
like Chardonnay
and overflowing.
Our rejoining—
though concealed—
moved some mountains.
Recovered.
Returning
and leaving,
much like the tides.
Hard to believe
this grown goddess
of confidence
was the meek little girl
in the polka-dot tights.
Saturn's gold rings
wrapped around digits
that write warmth into frigid,
aviators framing eyes
that see things
so subliminal—
you are more
than inspired,
you're pure spirit.
Your ascension—
showering hope—
secures the future.
And where
will you be
this time?
At my
side.
Thriving.
Photo by: Evie Shaffer
