Big, Bold, and Beautiful Woman

Chasing down a cab only to be rejected
Clouds of dreams
Turned in and detected
Nothing to whine about she remains calm, cool, and collected
Devoured heart
Drenched and burned
Light and loved
Ripped and torn
Fancy silk putting her back together again
Soul who loves and wants
A cry you can hear forever
One who loves to laugh
and sometimes cry
Fueled remedies she anxiously awaits to share
A tool box of glistening and rusty tools
All her time – there for you

Straight Lines and Jags

Upon her body lies a story
A chronicle of her time
There are lines
Some are perfect in their length and stare
Some are jagged with a roughness in their glare
A few you will know
And even predict
Yet you will never ask how she was whipped
Only a barrel
One with drips of water
Knows her every cue
Deep inside
Remain colors of blue
A remnant of yesterday
And maybe today
Her book to be told
Is greater than gold
For it will never be sold

Written by
Elizabeth Mendiola
©2014