Poetry

“Baby”

Baby……..
She moves the diamonds in her palm
as they sparkle in the light
they fit around her slender wrist
as she, again, prepares for night.

Excited she is for this time it’s tango
a dance he has taught her with patience and skill.
Last week it was sailing, the ropes she did learn
as he held her so close,
her safety, her goodness
his true and only concern.

Paris was lovely, as they say, in spring.
He had wined her and dined her
both filled with glee;
where together they giggled
and toured and ate
her great pleasure in him
in this worldly city
still there, to no abate..

Her favorite had been Central Park
the invite enclosed
in a velvet ribbon.
As they boarded he’d promised
she would be thrilled
then directed his pilot
to whisk them away
to a great city, HIS favorite
he said,
where she’d clapped her hands
in childish delight
as they boarded the carriage
her love unbidden.

Her other jewels do shimmer true
pure gold and pearls and gems.
Her place is filled with art and imports;
her scarves pure silks, bags hand-woven.
Her pumps she chooses, with thought in mind
of what would please her men.

She drives a classy little car
champagne the color, of course.
Also her choice she drinks those nights
when she dresses to kill,
all tease-y and flirty,
for those lonely souls
who have money to burn
but no one to call out to
“oh honey I’m home.”
They never had their turn.

For they are ugly or short
or too tall or fodder
to abort
if their mother had known
and were thoughtless
and careless
and used that method
to rid herself of the nasty thing
likely twisted and hairless.

They were taunted and laughed at
from the time they could feel
for the way they walked
or the way they talked;
any difference was hated
with great glee and zeal..

For humans are cruel and vicious
and base.
Even thinking of her
as a wicked white whore
for sharing and caring
all blind to the flaws
that others had found
in her partners the laws
would jail her for taking
the gifts that they chose
so lovingly
for Baby;
their precious, sweet Muse.

Who lovingly holds them
caressing the faces and scars
and lumps and bent over bodies
that others would never come near.
But, instead, would whisper behind hands,
they were laughing
and pointing as they called out a jeer.

But Baby, was different, no planning intended
to attract and accept these poor broken souls
It just happened with Samuel,
then Herbert then Boris
wee Ledger the last of the fold.

Her name was whispered in brotherhood lips
as the  lady so tender it hurt you.
Her kisses so sweet, like wine on your lips
so virgin to touch,
mouths meeting in love
the pleasure so strong, that it shook you.

She allowed you to sit,
sip whiskey at her place,
as she laughed at your stories
all cuddled right in
so close you could touch her
and see the light sparkle
and shine in her long
and lustrous red hair.
On the jewels and gems
she wore right alongside
the silks and satins..
all smelling of Jasmine.

For all Baby saw was beautiful hearts
as lonely and sad as was she.
For she also was laughed at and
gawked at and shunned.
Her grace so shocking it
made people stop. Some pointed,
some stared but she grew to ignore it.
The time usually spent with teenage
best friends,. spent instead
learning,
like Samuel, and Herbert
and Boris and Ledger;
her lovers all
and kind, great men
who shared a misery
the harshness of sameness
to those too enchanting to pen…

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