This is who I am -
at this moment,
I crave apples and passionate kisses.
My skin longs for sensual lotions,
applied by kneading masculine hands.
My curly hair sways in the breeze like gentle waves,
lapping at a buoy's edge.
My silhouette is mysteriously lit for the stranger at his opened door,
quickly glancing out.
I am wearing shoes dirtied from weeks of work grime and barefooted use.
This is who I am -
at this moment,
I miss state fairs with Ferris wheels and paper tickets for rides.
I fear my soul's desires and want to reveal them to him.
My bed is unmade and my room is unkempt.
My teeth play with my bottom lip and its adornment.
I wear six rubber-bands on my left wrist.
This is who I am -
at this moment,
I have a journal filled with tired rants and lustful dreams.
My cat sleeps poetically by a chair,
peacefully begging me to bury my nose in her belly.
I have stretch-marks,
reminding me that my child once owned my body.
My mind is preoccupied.
I have a friend living in Memphis, which is too far away.
This is who I am -
at this moment,
I have little money and grandiose dreams.
I want to own a house and paint it a light cheery yellow.
I'm want to have another child.
My legs need to be shaved,
preferably whilst in a steaming shower.
I obsess over pens and pencils.
This is who I am -
at this moment.
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