Defloration

My dress, wrapped like a collar, smells of grass.

After I kicked his face, he pulled off my boots - hips jerking, rocks scraping against my back – and heaved them into the creek.

The grass smells like warmth against my cold body.

Shelter

The deluge began in the foothills and quickly flooded the delta. Dolores left puddle prints as she slogged her way to the plains. She whistled her lips bone dry, sucked up the clouds of mystery. Stood barren before the one good man.

Motherhood, Part II (*Editor's Pick GB#187)

A slice of cake once a year may not seem like much. A lock of hair in a drawer, a little tooth. What they don’t tell you is how the power of a kiss unleashes your inner goddess. How you become invincible.

       

End of an Era

Me, a stone’s throw away from dotted i’s, t’s crossed in the sand, tossed in the waves. You, a thrown stone. Each crash of wave, tumble of sand smoothes your jagged edges, while May’s full moon erases our trail across the bay.