permanent stitches

i flew through the clouds

to turn onto your street

then i find this nudity

from a stranger grotesque

mirrors on the floor, quaint

best not look down

straight ahead was more than enough

why do we always look less intelligent

from a reflection bouncing up?

what i will ask you is your middle name?

adding why do you have no hair?

friends would be cheap, whilst we were lovers

i had to shift the focus, and fast

there was no telling what his lips would spit next

surely to be laced with profanity and innuendos

i however did not know these men well enough to be vulgar

why did i keep getting drawn to this flavor?

so no more lip action, period.

i just had to shut up all together.

though not before my big stage 'sigh'

my intentions as obvious as my transparent cream silk blouse.

i have permanently boycotted any and all activities that does not

come with a hair dryer and might possibly involve spiders

it was then, my brain chemistry kicked into overdrive

deciding to begin a new love affair with life

suppose you would have to know me to understand

how bizarre this piece is going for me

i am certainly not an outdoorsy kind of girl.

hailing taxicabs counts as strenuous exercise

clearly, i call for one on my phone, or someone calls for me

as i waited, i avoided all other men

all, yes all potential mirrors

the time was now or never, i had to know

in the cab i asked 'driver, do i look like a psychopath to you?'

what spoke was permanent silence that remained

suppose the question alone spoke volumes to my answer

but i need a concrete sign, even physical

even if just for him to lift his hand, or nod his head

it was then intrigue triggered horror when, regardless

i began spontaneous feelings of joy

not my style or within my making

ah, there, then the stab of pain

causing verses of poetry spreading a virus of my morbidity

my original insects i did scream at

my once 14 year old hand reached for a pen

to record all of me

as it would become a long habit

no taxicab headlights as i left

could announce my arrival

gliding from its grasp and now having one hand

that with one lost glove

my high heels waggling on gravel

only as i aimed my finger at the moon

recalling i had an earring once just like that

wishing this one i could wear too.