Pull her string,
she will dance for you —
a chaotic whirl of ginger hair,
erotic excitement in overdrive,
sultry glances from hooded eyes
leave a tingle long after
your dollars are gone.
Once, she was a little girl,
eight years old, scrape on knee,
acorn collection, tea parties and
dreams of white dresses and
happily ever after.
Ten years later her
mother quietly crops
her out of family photos.
Written for Shawna’s Monday Word Prompt. Words to include were: tingle, scrape, eight, ginger, chaotic, string, hood, acorn, hair, crop
Posted to the Imaginary Garden.
Posted to the Poets United Poetry Pantry
Posted to dVerse Poets Open Link Night.