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It Was A Wednesday

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It Was A Wednesday

And then I told her to put her breast on top of the table.
She lifted then settled on the wet yet wiped down counter,
and I just watched with my eyes smiling for my mouth and admired.

It was a Wednesday
Not a typical Wednesday
Not typical, cause the word to me had to do with some sort of corparation of:
Weddings; For the Wed part of (Wed)nesday, a day to be wedded.
Nesting; For the Nes part of Wed(nes)day, a day to nest;
be home and rest, be cozy and comfortable, if not too lazy fix up the place.
Obviously my over thought of this word has come to your attention.
Honestly, I more partake of the nesting meaning part of Wednesday;
rummaging in my household, laying in bed and hitting the pillow to my comfort,
just                          laying                               here                                nesting.
I don't hear or see weddings on Wednesday, but the first three letters of this
weekday word does make me think of such things       to           be            wed.
But these are just thoughts in mind until she comes in the room:

Glossed Lips
Chewing gum
But her eyes spit
Legs walking; don't lead
And her hands talk jumbled
Wants a seat, but can't repeat;
Carelessness to a wrong idea
Open head, but my mind has stumbled

Have you waited long?

I simply reply no
For waiting in a time that is used in thought is not wasted.

So how should we start off?

I want it to start but, start is a beginning and all beginnings lead to an end;
I              don't                  want               it                  to             end      .  .  .
You know those moments where you switch for what you think to what you say
and what you say for what you think?
That moment comes in in
I wonder if you could put your breast on top of the table= saying what you think
That's an interesting nail color you have on= thinking what you say
Crap..did I just say that out loud=saying what you say after saying what you think

Many colors flushed upon my faced and I think I began to become minature in the 
chair, I felt my hands trying to come up with explanations that my mouth couldn't 
and in then I just retorted to closing my eyes with my palms and whispering great, 
in the no way meaning of the word.

a smile was heard and it was her
and now this memory begins: 

It was a Wednesday.

Copyright © Jessica Arteaga

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  1. Date: 3/26/2011 5:44:00 PM
    Fine layout. I enjjoyed your prose poetry on Wednesday