etoilerose

. Pregnant gypsy dances to the tambourine in hand and counts the coins as they enter her purse. Her belly spills over her skirt.  The men love to watch her anyway. On Tuesdays, she sings to the pigeon who shit on her blanket and seeks sanctuary at Mother Mary’s feet. .etoilerose.

. My teeth tangled up     my tongue at another inopportune moment. I'm his burdened beast with a window-smashed head and an oppressive fear     of clocks. .elle.

Old Ezra…Young Hare Erin soon tired of chasing her dog around the backyard.  Even though her father told her Ezra was 84 in people years, he could still out run her.  Erin sat in the grass, forgetting that her mother told her not to dirty up her new dress.   —Come here, Ezra!  I think I found a four-leaf clover. Ezra ambled to his young ladymaster with heavy graying paws.  Four pairs of eyes gazed upon the plant in the tiny hands, disappointed.   —Maybe it has to be at the end of a rainbow. Erin sighed. Old Ezra returned to the bushes.  His hearing was failing him, but he couldn't overcome the curiosity of the small squeaks and rust

1.8.05 Nighttime is over.  She shifts under the weight of his now lonely arm; she parts her purple stained and cracking lips.  A snore from her still sleeping lover startles her as she stares into her bloodshot eyes. She reaches for water and painkillers and damns the night before. .erinleigh.

10.6.04 I don't want poetry you can tame or kisses sold for cheap. I want to touch the face of Jesus and build churches in the sand; to find fresh freckles on my nose and stones for skipping cross the waves. I'll laugh at spinnakers on the horizon-like haze and breathe as Achilles' sea cools my heels. .erinleigh.

10.5.04 Of honeycombs and tutus I seem to remember pink ribbon and ballet slippers best.  Strawberry lip gloss and best friend necklaces litter an old jewelry box along with newspaper clippings of Saturday's recital.  The tawny dancers in the wings waiting for their cue. Thirty seconds of pirouettes, pliés and smiles for an audience of brothers and sisters.  Gentle curtsies close the curtain and the princess crowns come off at least until Halloween. .erinleigh.

3.15.04 The lipsticked butts in your ashtray aren't mine: It seems a mauve mouth dragged something else tonight— and a different shade of lips taint my favorite wine glass. A trumpet serenades your guilt. .erinleigh.

11.26.03 I waded through a sea of        yellow red        and orange and past the decrepit phone booth that marks the entrance. I knew you were there by the mix of cologne with the scent of dusty books.            You read me poetry Off your shelves by Forgotten poets and Dreamers like us. And when I cried, you marked your page and led me back through the leaves. .erinleigh.

10.11.03 What are these words escaping my virgin mouth? I used to be so pure. Such unadulterated hatred Flying over the airwaves And through the channels I flipflipflip But you're still there-- Like the girl on the infomercial Selling me cream to make my Hair shine in the sun and if I call in the next ten minutes I get a free somethingorother to complement my four monthly payments of only nineteen ninety-five. Pearly smile decorated with a pearly necklace and diamond-gold rings she talks to me at 2 a.m., and how can I say no?  Just dial the number at the bottom of the screen. It's not till after I give her my credit car