All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
Once, Young. Once, Beautiful
I see the brown creek of my body
stretched before me, and swallowed
in the pale light beside the ocean,
And swallowed, in the aching of soil
between tree roots; Your leg, my leg.
All water held in the dimple of my thigh,
My hands, crushed iron; and my eyes,
fragments of wind.
I go back there, sometimes,
to the empty life of empty
beer bottles and cans, well-drained
and nestled in a sea of broken hands.
One whole sun held in my bra,
strapped to the telephone wires.
We didn’t mean anything by it, the
knotted shoelaces, flung high with clothing
well-loved and abandoned,
outlined in windows. We couldn’t mean anything,
they became metaphorical
like those sunburns on cloudy days.
Somehow, I go back to well-loved,
and abandoned, your leg; my leg.
I can’t help but return to
lying still, in an acre of broken hands.