Of First Loves and High Heel Shoes

“First loves are high-heeled shoes,” he says. “They affect flesh and spirit—straighten spines, tighten thighs, make you walk like you own the galaxy. Your first changes you forever. No other will ever make you feel like I did.”

I watch him,

remember myself

wrapped in him.

“Once,” I tell him, “the sight of you pulled little moans out of my middle. The memory of us (skin-to-skin), your scent… made me want. But I don’t lust after the way I used to feel inside your body. First shoes are just shoes—perfect (once), but irrelevant after they no longer fit.”

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the wee notes…
– Linked to Friday Fictioneers. Visit Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog, to enjoy interesting tales. Then follow this LINK, to read what others have written about my old shoes.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, where our sweetest Sanaa invites us to write about love, using a common everyday image.

 

A Sip of Baileys in My Skull

“No one is actually dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away…” ~ Terry Pratchett   

Wails are absent,
today. There’s Bachata music,
and stubborn tears
gloss my grin—
because I always grin

on February’s end,
when your voice spices
my memory,
when coconut milk simmers
with brown rice and pigeon peas,
under a bed of fresh plantain leaves
(because the original taste matters…
when crafting memory
back to life)
.

Wails are absent,
my heart.
But the cauldron is cooking
your favorite meal. And music,
oh yes…
there is music in my kitchen
and a sip of Baileys in my skull.

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the wee notes…
– Today is the 3rd anniversary of my little brother’s death. I celebrate his life by cooking something he liked, listening to music he loved, remembering him as he was—flawed, generous, hilarious… a fantastic dancer with the superpower of smiles.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Tuesday Platform, and to Prompt Nights ~ It’s in an old kitchen that the best food is made.