Quiet Storm

by Beulah Gordon-Skinner

Quiet storm,
hearing my untold secrets 
decipher my heart’s silent rhythms 
but, watch over the door of your lips.

Do not reveal the hungry urgencies 
Or air the dirty laundry that dries
like the macaroni the kids left on the
fork, awaiting the manual dishwasher.

Quiet storm,
revealing rumored secrets:
She can’t go forth without a fifth of
Johnny Walker Red and or Black-
Captain Morgan Spiced
Rum with Coke after Coke after Coke!
She is sadder, Bud-wiser
Her flesh is blue. Bruised.
She took a fall down the stairs at the
speakeasy’s soirée. Yesterday!

Quiet storm,
Believing there are no secrets
like cream-filled pastries reveals
Sweets to the soul
Shared lies unfold 

Stupendous lies told!

Quiet Storm by Beulah Gordon-Skinner

© Copyright 2017. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.

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