My beloved body
How many hours have I toiled over you
Washing, scrubbing, ironing out the wrinkles
so inevitable
Straightening, dyeing, styling crown & glory
destined to burn like logs on a funeral pyre
Every ache, every pain, every bump on the road
attended to with meticulous obsession
Pumping in vitamins, all 18 caps,
hoping to live forever
and lets not forget the apparel runway
my walk-in closet a testament to that
Sunlight falls across the altar
a small star illumining dark corner
of my room
my Soul calls softly
Suddenly I remember
Who I Am
I have a Queen Nefertiti brass ashtray that I picked up in Cairo. Of all the souvenirs and curios that could be bought, her image was most prominent. Quite a beauty to behold.
Ron