i dreamt i could sing
like Rita Hayworth, with a sashay of hip
and black satin, if getting the blues was something to dream about of course;
i captured the diva-on-screen, oh the goddess of thought.
do we really need to have legs, up to our armpits to evoke beauty
what is it that we parade on the streets, with clip clop clip clop heels
legs askew and wobbling veins, not pretty on those girls with corned-beef legs,
[we used to say that they'd sat too close to the fire]
truth is, their circulation is fucked; a bit like mine. recovery is a state of mind
& body and compassion for both. I am finding my compassion
although; every pill swallowed brings me closer to god or to Bette Davis
in Now Voyager - Don't lets ask for the moon, we have the stars
in my dream i see the moon and the stars fill this Northern sky.
i walk tall, sing loud and proud and i am all that is woman
and then some; and yes, reality is almost, almost the same.
Gold trophy winner
Adding your comment:
Am i the only guy that dared to venture in here so far? Well im glad i did becuase i got to read this and i loved it. Make up and high heels do not impress me that much, i prefer women to be themselves and be natural. i chuckled at the corn beef legs, mine used to be like that also and my mum used to say it was because i was too close to the fire lol. Your write then took a more saddened tone as you reflect and dream of singing under the stars, i dunno if you sing for real but you are in perfect harmony with your pen. As always i enjoy reading your work.
)
