I See You Looking

I see you looking
as you slowly walk by
you come back
take another look

silently I scream
"Take me now …
peel off my jacket
touch me with those sticky fingers
spread me wide open
bend me
until my spine is ready to break
penetrate me
lose yourself in my depths
then caress me like a lover
when you’re done."

but no …..
I know your type
you will abuse me
misuse me
rip me, tear me
leave marks
then callously drop me off
like an old whore
when you’re done

and them …..
they'll just clean me off
patch me up
and tell me
one more lying time
as they put me
back out on the street
how much you really loved me.

I am a library book.


It was a long time ago, but I remember
sitting on the front steps at dusk watching the sky for tornadoes
listening to my grandpa talk in a low voice about quiet
how if you listen hard enough you can hear it
the silence before the storm, before an earthquake, before a tornado
that ominous silence
it's true . . . the animals are quiet, the air is still
you hear only the scary, echoing sound of silence
silence thick enough to slice
silence so heavy you move in slow motion
silence so expectant you find yourself waiting
you realize everything is waiting, listening to the silence
some obvious signal to get spurred into action
RUN . . . GO . . . HIDE
but it never comes . . . we are frozen in silence
until it's too late, and the damage is done
winds appear from nowhere swirling dirt in your eyes,
temporarily blinding you while birds dart down and peck you on the head
the cat leaps after the birds, taking the skin from your upper torso
in a mad dash to bite the cat, the dog bites you instead
as you stand there, stunned and in pain
you remember when you were young
sitting on the front steps at dusk listening to your grandpa
and wish you would have asked him more.

Shadow Dancers

Have you ever caught yourself…
staring out into the dark,
staring into someone else’s private night
through their open window?
Have you ever caught yourself…
eavesdropping on their silhouettes
as they make love?
Have you ever caught yourself…
longing to touch and caress
that which is unreachable?
Shadow dancers …..
even more desirable
because they are surreal.

© Marilynn Fuqua

For more Marilynn poetry, including her chap, "Jazzy Cat the Haiku Kitty," contact