Summer died that night. I was sixteen, set up on a date with a friend’s brother, I went reluctantly for fear of being different and dateless.
My world fell apart as I was used like a non-person, thrown and battered, brutally raped and left staggering on the cold beach.
I sat shivering and alone until dawn outside the house party, being refused entry as curfew had passed.
The chaperoning couple sent me home. Disgraced in front of my friends and humiliated, I was unable to share what had happened.
My shame was unbearable as I was sure it was my fault somehow. The feelings of betrayal, disg and fear blew up to monstrous size as the hours passed.
My parents knew me well and realized that something more than my being late for curfew was going on. My dad hit the nail on the head, but I denied it had happened.
The bruises, both on my body and the ones inside were as self evident as I was self effacing.
Something besides summer died that night.
A lunar pull apart.
Born of self-same shelf.
Dig deep, Ye Pictorial Builders,
Ye Leatherneck Drivers!
One, young living coral.
Another, ancient decayed pluff.
May you tender the shelf.
Let your lines be straight.
Above the orb on reef and marsh
Life and death flow in sync.
Photographer: Tanya Ackerman
we have forgotten Truth…
We have forgotten Truth.
Need I say More?
Need I Say More?
Ah! The mess is the latter thought…
Unfinished now, yet not for naught…
A writer’s dream, fulfilled in my very hoping,
Complete in silence, speculation, unencumbered of mind.
Ah! The mess is the latter thought.
As More of Tudor’s Court once evoking,
“Words, words, words. It is all only words.”
Less than dream, featureless, exuberantly blind.
Unfinished now, yet not for naught.
Virgin stars bearing their beauty openings….
..consuming the Light
Bearing their Beauty
Consuming the Light
Appearing most Delicate
Blazing Life! Claims my Being, Undoes my World!
Held, so close to my heart.
A love, fierce and hungry,
Before became Now.
Four became Six.
Wonders became Whos.
Names my heart,
Claims my being,
Undoes my world,
As my Fist Two Whos
So their own,
Are and Will Be,