The Secret Life Of A Cloud

She yanked a cloud out of the sky
and pinned it to the sidewalk with her knees.

“My shape shifting figure tried to squirm
from underneath her, but I lay still when I felt
her cutting me open.

I didn’t know my blood was black until its
ever extending fingers
reached for the sidewalk’s edge.

She shoved her hands in me, playing with my oily innards.
Planets escaped my stomach
and rolled onto the pavement

bouncing like marbles into the gutter and

I wondered    what she was looking for.
Her brown hands ransacked my laundry bag body
as if I was withholding her lost piece of her clothing

(I didn’t know what I did wrong)
I remembered watching her walk through the park.

I didn’t know what she looked like but I recognized her
bowlegged walk.

Her curly brown hair pulled back tight and neat.
She was always touching it to feel for loose strans.
And she looked down so much that sometimes the Earth felt like a treadmill.

She may have preferred the ground over the sky

but I liked her

I didn’t think she ever noticed me.
She did what she could to hide herself,

but I knew what her boyfriend did to her

and after he was finished she’d always run to the park
and sit on a bench near a pond.

A breeze would push me over her head and I’d get nervous,
hoping that she’d see my reflection in the water.
Sometimes I’d get so excited that I’d rain.

Drops would shatter on her forehead and carve the arch of her cheeks.
Some would splash her chest and slither in between her breasts to

fill her navel.

Her skin felt the way lighting looks.
(She carried an umbrella, but wouldn’t use it on me.)

In the morning
I’d use a rainbow for a flare,
hoping she would look up here, but she never did.

I didn’t need to see her face to know that she was
the eye to my storm.

She was a mouth that spoke soft hellos
and how are you doings.

I wanted to help her.

I asked the wind to push her
boyfriend in front of a bus
but it had a hurricane to attend to in the Caribbean

I asked the water to drown him when he’s taking a bath,
but it refuses to destroy it’s own creation.

One night the moon told me
there was nothing I could do

I loved her.

Lying on the sidewalk, I studied her face.
A blue vein rippled and wrapped around a corner of her jaw.
Its twin was a river that ran behind her building.

Never did I imagine that she would
ever be looking down at me
and I looking up at her

(She made me want to be human. May be this is what it feels like.)”

Leave a reply:

Your email address will not be published.

Site Footer

A Farmer Jones Production