Am I Wicked?

I wrote this for the bloggersmeetup; thought I’d share it here too.

 

Source: Am I Wicked?

 

 

Am I Wicked?

©2017 E. R. Smith

Standing before my opinionated mirror, conversing,

“You are so  wicked”, Mirror announces

Cutting eyes, I warn my accessory I will not hesitate to shatter him

“You are a wicked queen”,  Mirror reminds

I ponder,

Yes, I have wicked symmetry to my face

Wicked curves cut my breasts, hips, thighs causing upsets

My tummy is only a bit naughty, four out of six packs

“How wicked am I?”,  I ask, fishing

“Well, I watched you engineer a coup on that young man,”

“He became minion, following an impish grin”,

“Let out fiendish wails as you assaulted him”

“Wayward strands of hair tangled his speech”

“He is enslaved.”

Parting full lips, showing even teeth, a devilish smile

“Yes”,  I admit, “I am a bit vicious”

“But, that young man would concur, my wicked is good.”

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Too Fresh to Pick

©2017 E. R. Smith

Stand side line watching players ball

Sweat flying, limbs sleek and poised

Alphas in their prime, gorgeous and tall

Ten wonders, beyond average boys

Heart pounding, in awe of design

Taking in all of the whole of them

Eyes large with possible, uncross align

Preparing to pick the best gem

Picky girl observing on high bleachers

Recalled she’s fresh fifteen

Life with these  remarkable creatures

Just for now,  a vivid dream

Creepy Caper Served Cold

©2017 E. R. Smith ,

Slinky sliding, floor warm sticky.  Straight to my goal, aimed   Sounds of rocks on gravel almost deafening.  Room is dark, shadowy like Scooby Doo, when crew enters a place they have no business.  Fan on High, ’cause it’s way too hot.  Crawl sliding, middle of  bedroom behind fan; I stop.  Noise really is loud.  Prepare weapons.  Study victims.  Migdalia, her side, snoring like she’s fighting to breathe, but losing.  Next bed, Mary, mouth open like she’s yelling at ‘Dalia.  Toss my weapons into air.  About a thousand tiny pieces of paper land on them from overhead.  Watch them wake screaming, swatting.  They think insects.  I smile.  Every time they break something  in my room, I feel like swatting them.  Big sister revenge takes planning, maybe losing a night’s sleep; totally worth it.  We are way better at appropriate punishment than parents.  

Sugar That’s Way Too Spicy!

©2017 E. R. Smith

Double dipped an index into the bowl

The taste pulled back is familiar

Once its possession was a heartfelt goal

But now it is only peculiar?

Hot sauce on grilled meat spicy

Your heat brought out my juicy

Aphrodite strutting feeling feisty

Only ours just wasn’t destiny

Crave ice water to wash it down

Dilute you from sense memory

Spicy turned bitter showdown

Don’t need to commit to a felony

Snatch up girdle, realign breasts

Hop down off high bar stool

Follow just what mind suggests

Sugar,  you’re now too old to play fool!

Spying on Fairies

©2017 E. R. Smith

Mommy said Tooth Fairy leaves a quarter under my pillow.  Thus began a sleepless night of surveillance.  Thought about Titi and Abuela heating up Bustelo. Coffee could help against Sand Man assailants.  Yampi in eye corners formed on the sneak. Magical beings plot people to sleep. Not tonight, I send angels a petition. God magnificent, please allow me just a wee peek. Magic is a secret warned school’s magician.  Only it’s not secrets that I seek.  Questions mom can’t answer swarm my vision.  Keep considering life’s future weeks.  News on impending is hoped to find.  Now I spy wings on my curtains.  Hold my breath to remain unheard.  Kindest eyes, listen, wise and certain. Why is my brother such a turd?!