So we finally remembered that we
Used to be best friends,
Talking upcoming prom dates and dresses,
And you thought you had risen like a phoenix from acquaintance in my black book
Making the comfort level friend-like
So you turned and asked, pointedly
"Would you ever consider implants?"
Excuse me?
Do you really want to release my fury?
What of me?
I AM
SO MUCH MORE
THAN MY BOOBIES.
I am
The Moon.
This is not a spiritual revelation, mind you,
Your statement, stemming from a high level of intellect,
Catapulted me into the soft clouds of Enlightenment.
This spaceship
Has landed.
Finally, I am grounded.
I'm sorry that I was so self-confident
And felt attractive
With a flat chest.
I now see that
I am no more than
That level, revolving landscape
Where there aren't so much
Dormant volcanoes as there are
Craters or
Crumbling hills, for that matter.
My peaks
Will never top
The Mount Everests who wave
Hello to me
From their
Barely covered
Hiding places.
Guess I ain't no shorty so seductive.
Time for me to become a nun.
No more chance for you and me to become as one.
322 Review publishes provocative emerging and established artists. Conceived and operated by former Rowan University graduate students of the Master of Arts in Writing Program, 322 Review is aggressively seeking the best fiction, creative nonfiction, poetry, and mixed media works of visual art.
Copyright © 2010