Thursday, September 17, 2009

Row house lullaby

Mother never allowed me to play outside. I suppose she wasn't too keen on me being used for target practice. So I often played by myself inside our three room box, peering out of a window that hadn't been cleaned since Nixon was impeached. But yet I am content to press my nose against the dust filled screen and daydream of the world my mother promises. Just before bedtime, she would sit next to me, smelling of peppermint and jasmine. Her breathing would be softly labored, as though her pulse and heartbeat were creating a soundtrack to my daydream. And then she would close her eyes, rock back and forth and slowly open her mouth to speak. Every word was saturated with the warmest of melodies and harmonies that made my soul sing. She filled my head with such delicacies that always left me hungry for more. I was a descendant of kings and queens, a true princess in my own right. She said that explained why I had such regal tendencies and sometimes warranted a sarcastic" Your Highness" response. My world was engulfed in soft hues of pink and lavender and everything smelled like strawberries and bubble gum. My loyal subjects were a variety of exotic birds that fluttered lightly about as though they were filled with air. They had lustrous strands of hair instead of feathers and cotton candy for eyes. And instead of chirping, they had big, bellowing voices. Much like Marian Andersons voice on Easter Sunday. And they obeyed me out of love, for I was a just and kind ruler. Everyday, they would sing for me and I would dance and dance until my feet no longer touched the ground, like I too were filled with air. And we would float about together, singing and dancing and mocking about. We would make such a glorious and joyful noise. That world kept me safe inside of my own cocooned imagination. My world of mysteries and things that could never be. The possibility of us leaving behind our Section 8 palace would remain just that, an impossible possibility. So I lay here, content, in deep realm, rocked to sleep by my mothers row house lullaby.....

2 comments:

  1. i love reading your writing but i enjoy listening to you read it even more...then my mind paints the illuestration that go along with the story :-)
    can't wait to read more

    m

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  2. Dude, you're not slick!!! You fall asleep every time I read something to you, ol' granny pants, lol!!! I can just see whats gonna happen when you come to visit story time....
    But thank you anyway, daah'ling. Still editing a few more, will let you know when I post =)

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