Sunday, May 2, 2010

A Gift for One

by Sandy Benitez

Strangers laugh and point at me.
Fingers carelesslly lighting

fires as if magic bred beneath
their shirt sleeves. I used to

burn badly. Now I stroll with
the pain. Bring me more, please.

It is beautiful, no? Suffering.
So I'm the sour girl, woman-child.

The oddity. The shrinking violet
in a field of drunk wild flowers.

And if you search long enough
you may see me. My short petals,

the purple glint in my eyes.
But I blend in well. I've learned

to adapt to changing seasons.
Smiles in Summer, frowns in Winter.

So when you arrive at my garden,
don't expect to pick a bouquet.

I travel solo. A gift for one.

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