Wittier Word Weavers

Writers' Club of Whittier

Now

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Now is that time when your eyes droop
and a nap is the sweetest thing in the world
soft like a down blanket
dim, the dimness of twilight heavy with rains
pittily pat, pittily pat
voluptuous as a woman heavy with child
breasts engorged
blue veins zigzagged
nipples as large as two plump grapes
as black, as ripe
ready to be picked and pressed
maceration
maceration
juice and skin blending
til the heat rises
the heat rises and bubbles
intoxication

Image (4)

Now is that time your stomach churns and gurgles
your newspapers pile high
Eating, you scan through them
browse the pages
until, like fish, your eyes caught interesting lines
swim closer, circling, your mind slows
digging in
the story
of someone’s life.

You look up
Breakfast is lunch
the pile of papers
still high.

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Author: Hong-My Basrai

Memoirist and author of Behind the Red Curtain, blogger, engineer, manager, mother of three and wife of one, etc. I am a bit of everything.

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