Never To Succeed

Never to Succeed I wanted to be taken seriously, And to be me, I wore three-tiered skirts, flouncing Blouses and I dreamed of being a dancer, With a Spanish partner, Tempted by music and art, Winking at the moon, With my outstretched arms, Before it, Bottles of wine on the counter, Colors of pink and red, No trophy room or smoking den, Just careless love, a few laughs, No options for substance, A rainbow of fate before me. Clothed in armor, Copper pennies at my feet, Stone walls around my heart, Lofty, sober, men in the streets, Citizens later, passing them with jaws Set and frowns erected, To Hell with life, I’d rather be a hummingbird, As my crumbled tulle skirt Makes me weep, Botched flirtations, Missed chances, Parking lot mistakes, Fumbling with my zipper As I dress quickly, A man with a flask in the alley, Awkward glances as he passed. My perfume filling the car, Magnolia and violet with rose, too. My sun-freckled face Smudged and sweaty in the heat, As my breasts feel slaughtered by My pain, Wishing for showy romance Where flesh meets pleasures And the breeze carries the botany of My green closed eyes To you, Fragile touch of lips, A world full of desire and serene Love, not mine. --J. E. Cook © 2020