cocoon/papillon

Autumn-leaf red and gold
threads of memory
grow from my head
and spill down my back
quickly overtaking the ersatz-black
winding through my fingertips
i weave them
Rumpelstilskin-like
spinning a cocoon
around my body
infusing me with visions
Summer of 1994
the year i wore that
blue apron dress
with black boots
and smoked
half a pack a day
writing poetry in cafes
with a toddler at my heels
The year i fell in love for Real
with he of the turbulent brown eyes
and terrible rages
I remember the last day
of our acquaintance
he broke a chair against the wall
And then that boy
with the long auburn hair
who came that fall
to help heal my bruised heart
That was the year
I learned the art
of how to change lovers
like i changed my clothes
That was the year
i wrote my first erotic poem
for the boy who slid across the floor
to land at my feet
just to bring me a drink
The year of University
and adversity
and pre-school
and that apartment with no heat
and the bugs that walked audibly
across my cheap tile floor
And drum circles at the lake
Making martinis after hours at the Tao
The year i learned i was beautiful
but didn’t quite fall for it
The year i discovered Anaiis Nin
and that sex without love
wasn’t exactly a sin
but sex without self-respect was
And you – you were there too
the one i invented
in my head
but never thought was real
i still feel you
hovering nearby
every time i turn a corner
and think that maybe
i’m in love
Now i’m older
but somehow still retained
that same face
As if i refrained from aging
unless maybe
you look closely
at the tiredness
that’s sometimes in my eyes
or note the set of my jaw
It’s a strange irony
that i’ve spent my whole life
trying to look older than my years
by dressing up in
grownup’s clothes
and changing the shade of my hair
like i changed lovers
But now that i look in the mirror
i no longer care
Because i can see the elusive
signs of wisdom
i’ve been searching for -
Today,
hiding among the gold strands
i found a single silvery hair
It seems only fair
that today
i cut it short
It somehow seems fitting
And i feel i’ve earned it.

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Tags:

butterfly, cocoon, girl, growth, hair, life, lover, mother, poem, symbolic and woman