The Next Isle Over

There I was. Inside a crowded Toys R Us On a mid-Winter’s evening Abrasively loud 5 year olds And depressed fathers Ready to throw their “angelic” brethren Into life-size Nerf basketball hoop (Because it was on Clearance) To embrace sanity’s madness I was simply here to search for a porcelain doll For my darling 8 year old angel To match her serene complexion But, toddler stomps & red-faced pouts Equivalent to octaves of Hell’s 5th circle Could not stop the strut that suddenly coated my foggy nerd glasses There she was. Her 5 foot, 10 inch majestic walk Performing exorcisms on corrupted tile floors With each New Step My ear canals Swimming in the serenity of Her olive-coated curves And violet-auburn shaded, shoulder-length curly locks Left Right Left Sensual witchcraft was placed upon my resilience Chipped away by her Hazel ribboning pupils My heart’s atrium, flat lining, with laughing hyena smile Frozen by igloo’s revenge upon madness “Excuse me, sir”, she vehemently moaned (At least, in my head) “Hi”, I expressed with pre-pubescent coarseness. “I’m looking for a porcelain doll. But, I’m a tad lost in this maze. Could you help me find my way?”, she whispered with demure smile With my tongue pressed against seconds’ icy arm, Locked for dear life, I inhaled with Olympic stature “It’s 9 isles this way. May I show you?”, I confidently declared on sanity’s edge. With constellations aligned by blue moon signatures, “Yes, please”. As crux of evening’s audible stresses Faded into final curtain’s epileptic sunset, The winds of Yahweh curtailed all foggy affirmations Into palms of bliss Because On this night I proudly took the long route Slow dancing with magnificent silence To the isle That was only 2 steps to our left I believe we both discovered our porcelain dolls on this night. ©Drake J. Eszes