The Left Leg
The left leg, atrophic and slender
illuminates in translucent skin,
resembles a pork riblet, nipped and sucked
down to the bone-bone,
to the deepest place of render.
He waits for the sputtering to stop.
My mind in my eyes,
conjures.
His huge breath bellows
at three glowing screens
tri-folding him into world
into being
without participation.
Reruns of Luke and Bo Duke
slip in and out of windows and retinas,
the spinning $1.00 tag
flaunts the price of prizes, and the spandex
shifts from left elbow to right knee
lifting and kicking together
in lonesome harmony.
I watch him watching them.
He sees
dot combinations,
ballroom dancing,
feathers and glitter.
Glitter, smiles and bright fluorescence
twirling from toe to hair bun
inching through the thick
pane of glass
daring his recliner to tango.
‘&’
& when the sun enters me
& my wheelbarrow is full
& there are no bills in my mailbox; no bills today
& my mother calls. We talk slow, pause after pause
& she’s met someone handsome
& beautiful
& I know aloneness is a state, but not a state today. I smile in my car
& when no one looks
& when I choose not to cross you
& we intake this shared
Lilac
wonder but I am too unassuming at my skin’s unveiling
My lungs gulp rays
Bio:
Felicia works as an academic advisor in the College of Business and pursues a Master of Fine Arts in creative writing, both at Colorado State University. Felicia's passions include poetry, travel, and family. Her travels include England, Scotland, Czech Republic, Italy, Spain, and Mexico. When stationary, she spends time with her partner, Chris, and two Chow-mixes, Howser and Levine. Other published works may be found in Academic Advising Today, Poetrybay, Ruminate, Matter, The Great Ecstatic Reporter, Walt's Corner, The Honey Land Review, forthcoming in zaum, and forthcoming in Quill & Parchment.
