...Barefoot...

Barefoot
Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George BS,RN
July 31st, 2006

I still walk barefoot, even though you tire of me stopping to hop on one foot
The proverbial West Texas sticker blindly hidden somewhere in tender skin
It hurts-pain tells me it is real, and as the hot gravel touches the sole of my
Foot I am filled with thousands of dime store characters, immersed yet fleeing
From paperback novels that will never sell, and the taste of strawberry ice cream
Traces my tongue with pleasure, this is how I know you, for you bend down
Even in the dark, to feel that sticker as I wait patiently for you
To remove that simple stab wound of pain, from me, smiling
Tenderly, ever willing to touch all of me now, in the dark moon light
Here on the street corner where no one is watching, I in boxer
Shorts, innocent a child of life, one who cannot grow up, but will swallow you
Whole for the barracuda is there-protecting me from the nuclear fall out of my
Mommy dearest sodomizing my flesh before I could walk, much less crawl
That old song is bereft of the rose scent that you taste, deep on my skin
Where it is warm, (likely somewhere in the middle), my thong moves by itself
You enter, and that fit like a tight leather glove, wearing me out, the taste of
Bitter lemon on my tongue, Coca Cola and ice chips, this thirst
Renders me dry, yet wet; yes you know the impasse, and the
Children are playing somewhere in the early morning dawn the
School bus is coming, the door slams, I roll over and your skin
Touches mine again, and we are lost in ONE place where we find yellow flame
Nipping at those parts saved for husband and wife, and we play house as two
Lustful teenagers who know better, have found it out, and yet know it all and
You are hard, (where I am soft), you empower your body to enter (I accept)
The electrical charge makes me moan, devour all of you, then turn to reach
Over and take your role into me, for I am good; better, and worse than all you
Need, love, and rainbow feel with a finger (yes here)
Chiffon see through blouse, unbuttoned, your fingers cannot
Wait for your hunger is that of a man famished, and I am
Your menu, your rage, your ability to murder, and bring life
Again, we walk, now hand in hand-satiated yet wanting lips that touch, bend
Curve, and innocent tongue tastes the salt of a stray tear--how can you know
Love when you desire the recipient, deeper down then you ever went, this is
Not his abyss, but his hiding place, refuge--sexuality is just a word for fornicate
That prairie dog turned crimson when the pick up truck ran him down, and his
Blood ran like rain, dried on the desert floor, the dirt scatters, blows, I love you...

Take that sticker out of my foot...
He sighs, she is bare foot again...