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arts


Two poems by Ally

FREEDOM

I swallowed freedom last year.
Fortified by bleeding prayers,
whisker rub reminiscence
and three sleepless nights
I shouldered my soul and said,
"Mama, I'm gay."
SLAP
Careening down, tormented shock
and the ragged breath of concealed terror.
Lightening flows up my spine
mingling with the taste of fear
and the touch of butterfly kisses.
My fingers tingled in reality
as they raked my hair in a
gesture of self restoration
And I could hear
And I could feel
And I could sweat the vindication
of a tortured youth.
DOWN
My mama's eyes dripped pain.
She grieved for my dead self.
She wept for ideals,
for pictures,
for Cinderella princess dreams
and traditional Midwestern themes.
She mourned my unborn children.
FLIGHT
Two ovaries,
a womb inside my body.
I am all that is Mother.
I am hugs, I am baby laugh bubbles
I am sighs, I am affectionate jumbles
of arms and legs and hearts and tears.
And on that night
my mama's face was a tapestry.
A stained glass window depicting the
whiteness of confusion kissing the past.
My eyes...my deep set...
My mama's eyes.
Myself realized,
my Sapphic spirit baptized
in the glow of liberty.
"Mama," I said. "I am me."
"Mama," I said. "I am freed."

SYMPHONIC LAUGHTER

Your grace astounds me
in your symphonic laughter.
Your gaiety,
tailored to fit
such a plain faced
world.
Fingers,
flame dances,
prickle over my own.
Hair in curls,
eyelash on your
moon creamy face.
You make my sighs
freeze like breath on
a bitter morning.
Such a dampness
in my chest
I choke on
laughter that
never came fourth
in bloom to
harmonize your
chortles.
O, if I had sung
my soul to you
would I have bathed
in your
smile?

Ally, 16, lives in North Carolina, and is at loughrin@alltel.net


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