Cheryl A. Townsend



wear summer white
without a smudge
Their hair perfectly
out of place Smelling
5 & 10 soap clean
under mascara and 
a natural lipstick 
Yes they still blush
when bad boyz 
talk sex and touch
a piece of their any
where exposed skin
Lean against a car
fender with a wanna
be like them girlz dream
You can just feel
their cotton begin
to wrinkle


I wasn't born needing you
I was taught that I should
by others who were taught the same
I guess I'm a slow learner

I'm living my second marriage
apart as much as together
and nothing stronger than want
or desire to allow us ourselves

In high school girls cried
and exchanged sex as if wedding bands
but it was all put asunder
when they believed in the need of forever

The men I have known were jealous
of my reluctance to need them alone
Clinging to the scent I left in their sheets
and my poetry of metaphoric love


Changing sheets is no where
near enough no matter how much
bleach you use and no douche can
clean what has been deeper than
what ever spot he tapped It's either
quintessential or detrimental when
the car outside your vows has more
than an oil leak to worry you


I grabbed the crease of his
sheets dangling across the abyss
hyperventilating the intensity of
surrender and kissed the taste
of his wet smile


Burning the skin on my knees
My elbows locked Hands
clenching shag I am a cow
watch my utters sway
My ass feel the bruise
of his grip Make your cobra
dance in my basket

Cheryl A. Townsend
© 1999


Thanks to the following for previously 
publishing these poems:

Want to Sing -- X-it Press
The Year I Reach My Prime
      and Meanderings -- Proper PH Publications

Back...  Comments to CAT...