Young and full of new answers,
I remember wanting a pair of red
shoes so much I thought half a size
smaller wouldn’t matter too much,
until a blister made of burning lava
told me not to settle for tormenting
strolls anymore.
But, I still had to learn that slow moving
sizzling magma lived in men
I met who looked so good
until they overflowed with selfish
so damn hot it scorched the soft skin
right off my perfumed partner ship.
I was still ok because inside I knew
I could fly warp speed back to work,
the place where my sweet fit is just a
choice away from now.
Photo by Aleks Marinkovic on Unsplash
Susan Shea
Susan Shea is a retired school psychologist who was born in New York City, and now lives in a forest in Pennsylvania. She feels like she is coming alive again, able to return to writing poetry. Susan has been published in Plainsongs, Pudding, The Bluebird Word, and The Agape Review. Recently Susan has had poems accepted for Last Stanza Poetry Journal, The Bookends Review, Exstasis, Poetry Breakfast, and four anthologies by The Moonstone Arts Center:The Weight of Motherhood, by Wingless Dreamer: Darkness Within Me, by Pure Slush Books: Lifespan Series:Achievement, and by Poet’s Choice: Nostalgia.
