Ballerina With Fins Poems

I am both the Adam and Eve in my story, male and female,
I am entwined together. Me, sitting quietly,
holding my own hand; it feels so soft.
...

Swing, slide,

slip us a twirl.
Baby's been
...

It creeps into the white room,
like ice that burns at the
smallest touch of frightened fingers.
...

Do you notice, how it has just
stopped raining, and the air is colder,
smothering us in fresh sharpness,
the exquisite slapping of our shoes
...

Oh! The sly old Tom we once used to know
is no longer apparent in our whimsical dreams
of dreary Life and yellow yesterdays. Tom,
with one conceited eyebrow arched
...

Blah-ness. Words dripping
drip drip
dripping like sodden clothes
Thoughts sinking
...

Words
taking a trip
on a lazy sunday afternoon
walking down the hot country lanes
...

She ponders, by the window,
the mellow-honey seraphic child
the irreproachable child
the intangible princess child
...

What a surprise- the red berries have
been stolen! They were but so cold,
and so sweet. Perhaps it is I
who is the culprit. Or perhaps, it
...

Red
nectarous jacket
peeled
off
...