I exaggerate the sound of you,
catch wind, fold arms,
thrust out both lips and hips.
They think you, not me,
callous, loose,
too weak to keep
faithfulness between us.
"Poor Bettie" whispers
pass through open windows,
fire escapes and rooftops,
"such a good girl scorned."
I laugh, exaggerate the sound
of my pain, fold hands
around my lips to hide
the smile that slips,
amused at who
is the true el culo.
©2005 Peggy Eldridge-Love
2 comments:
Thank you Peggy. I need your e-mail address so I can send you an invite to mipo's ibpc blog.
Ahhhh...vintage Peggy Eldridge Love. Even if I didn't know what 'el culo' was, I'd love this piece.
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