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Message-ID: <38191asstr$1031407802@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: max_wojtylak@yahoo.com (theGreatxIam)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 26 Jul 2002 23:25:56 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} [sapphic] Memories Like Shards of Glass (FF, poem)
Date: Sat,  7 Sep 2002 10:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Memories Like Shards of Glass
By theGreatxIam

Memories like shards of glass
Lie fallen all around us.
Crystal visions of our past
Become the jagged future.

Childhood sharing Barbie dreams
Of Kens on prancing horses.
'A' my name is Alice schemes
For love and middle incomes.

Teenage passions full of hope,
Like dresses on a prom night.
Friendship bonds of golden rope
Tie us to our tomorrows.

Years that drift on scattered words.
Two paths wind through the forest:
One way tears past snags and burrs,
The other bores through virtue.

Choices made with eyes tight shut.
The smoother trail grows rocky.
Alibis for ties uncut:
Here lies a fallen woman.

Smiles and shouts, martini laughs,
And memories in amber,
Jump-rope rhymes long cut in half
Stitch up a broken lifeline.

Hours to paint the years apart.
A palette dark with umber
Limns the shadows of a heart
Long missing hue unknowing.

Truth, I think, came first to you,
A wiser fool than I was.
Passion rules, the past comes due,
Denial would be sadness.

Popcorn petting, silly jokes,
At chick flicks filled with romance.
Singing songs and sharing Cokes --
A kiss to build a dream on.

Missing colors now filled in
With pink and purple passion,
Golden bonds at last begin
To show their strength and sinew.

Sharing beds and sharing hearts
But keeping sep'rate razors.
Lips together, friends apart
And families in closets.

Summer nights on rumpled sheets,
Old tunes float in the window:
Martha dancing in the streets --
The girl groups were the best ones.

One whose flesh more nearly kens
The yearnings wrapped inside you
Gives you pleasures sweeter than
The stallion's armored rider.

Face to face and hand in glove,
Soft laughter, softer touches.
Call it lust or call it love,
In Sappho there is Eros.

You in whom my yearnings live
Ask only that we name them.
What you ask I dare not give.
In secret beds my heart weeps.

Paths together split so fast;
You will not creep in shadows.
Looking through the looking glass,
My future lies before me.

I walk down well-traveled roads --
The ruts are so familiar.
Yours holds passion's mother lode;
Mine has an heir apparent.

He will take me back, he said,
Like wearing an old sweater
Taken out and patched with dread.
Put Barbie in cold storage.

Memories like shards of glass
Lie fallen all around us.
Crystal visions of our past
Become the jagged future.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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