Nov 21, 2015

Double Exposure


Amber street lamps and gold-tipped branches line the street.

The luminous body of a woman lies over and through the street -- rooftops, sidewalks, and backyards.

Bronze hair falls across her shoulders.

Mingling with the leafdust and long, golden grasses of late summer.

Her legs drape between clapboard houses.

Her glutes fall on the beds of parked trucks.

Her torso passes through sun-filled kitchens, the fire station, the jungle gym, and Proto's Pizza Bar.

Her arms fold across her body, hands wrap around shoulders.

She sighs long and deep.

She sends love to her quads, her calves, her stretched out toes.

The street glows.


Her fingers stroke back the hair from her forehead

The grass sighs.


She touches her throat, her heart, her belly.

The street smiles.


Her hand rests on her thigh, skin touching gossamer.

She breathes long and slow.

She feels touch.

She feels contentment.

She feels love and

Remembers a photograph

Her mother holds up a silver tin of talcum powder

Goofy baby lies back on mother's lap,

Gurgles. Kicking up legs and toes.

Little feet waving.

Mother smiles down.

Just another day on the street of love.

3 comments:

dianne said...

Elaine dear, a beautiful and colorfully visual piece of prose.
xoxoxo ♡

Anonymous said...

Thank you, Dianne!

Lainie Logan said...

Anonymous was me.