Some days I like to imagine.
Imagine being beautiful and planting grins on men’s faces. Put me in a Toga and I could be a Greek goddess, with my almond eyes, olive skin, full hips and long legs.
Or put me in a ball gown. I could be a Renaissance woman. My spiral curls would be perfectly pinned up and slither down in all the strategic places. My breast would plump up under the corset, leaving viewable my sexy shoulders and delicate collarbone.
But in the present day, I sit hunched in the coffee house, frumpy jeans and a stretched cotton tee. My frizzy hair is contained at the back of my neck with a hair tie. The hot coffee burns my fingers and I wrinkle my nose at it’s tar black appearance. I get a glimpse of my reflection in the dirty mirror as I turn away… oh, wow… Yes, some days I like to imagine.
I can’t answer when I’m not near it,
Or when I don’t hear it.
Even when I wake up at dawn,
Sometimes I forget to check if it’s on.
I always try to answer,
Though I heard cell phones give you Cancer.
Never did learn how to text,
It left me feeling all perplexed.
If you really need me, just shout my name,
Whether your near or far, I’ll hear you just the same.
As soon as the syllables vibrate off your lips,
I’ll march towards you on an army of ships.
Once I’ve arrived, into your arms I will fall,
All just to tell you, “Sorry I missed your call.”
Written by Jessica Skye
I wish I could be the rain. To be a single drop making that exhilarating jump thousands of feet down. Children would try to catch me on their tongues but I’d be too fast. I’d hit the ground and be swept up into a little puddle swirling around, dancing with all the other little drops just like me. And eventually I’d evaporate, swept back up into the heavens, ready to make that drop once more.
By Jessica Skye