Not Super Girl

Within the words of licorice tea,
I find you.
sentient dissensions
owning the failure
of successes;
and the success
of failures.

Sensitive pallor
of prismatic translucence;
propensity’s inclination
night’s sky
you burn

In that same prismatic fashion
calling us
beneath the surface
of our own forgotten bodies.

Knowledge blurs our perceptions
love in a time of nowhere
and all-where

Dervishly
throwing off your own balance
knocking us unhinged
breaking our hearts
that we may sow intended.

A single strand
writes itself
into a parachute
for the many.
CKS

Night in the House of Poetry

she moves within the changes of humidity/barometric pressure
she is made of ink, charcoal, paper, and plaster-clothe
she finds she is empowered
asking for help; not attempting to be “super girl”

paint much love, always,
Connie Karleta Sales
a.k.a. This Crooked Little Flower


Connie Karleta Sales

artist, poet, educator, public speaker and thriver! Smiles and unpaved roads are the way I roll :D