Bleached American Dream
He passed right by me with a closed fist.
But somehow I never felt the strain.
Walking towards me,
The eyes only narrowed their gaze to my left ‘brow
Which was adorned with three bands of piercing silver.
I don’t think I ever had a chance, because
The eyes never deviated from the left ‘brow
To the right, which would have lead to an expansive forehead
Embellished with thick black coils of swaying braids
Which ever so gently prodded my high, high cheek bones
And quietly approached two bright chocolate eyes.
Never could those eyes see anything but the left ‘brow.
And I, I had dared to show him the right,
All the while already ascribing to
the knowledge of a
momentary defeat.
© Rei Thompson, 2008.
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