THE GIRL WITH CINNAMON SKIN
I
The girl
with cinnamon skin and guitar strings for a heart
wakes up to brave a new day’s start
Sometimes
she worries that no one will ever strike a chord
that her heart has never played before
…
II
Each dawn
She’s tasting the air with the pink tip of her tongue
Then lets it in to fill her lungs
And since
She only can sing with her heart worn on the sleeve
A room feels empty when she leaves
…
III
She likes humming to herself
Any question she may have
And she’s perfectly pleased with her answers
She is never in a rush
And when music’s being played
She will move with the grace of a dancer
IV
She wears
A broach as a clasp for her tent-like poncho coat
Which makes her look like she can float
She thinks
That life’s somehow based on a musical idea
Since it sings back to her constantly
(… continued …)