Brain Benumbed

Written for:  Phoenix Rising 


Flip-flop, flip-flop,
butterflies flutter
inside my stomach.
What is he feeling?
Reeling on my feet,
I try to look level,
sane. Hard to read
his eyes–enormous
black pools. Fearful
of looking foolish
by blushing like a ripe
peach, I quickly lower
my lashes. I peek.
He advances toward me,
tilts my chin–a charmer.
Flip-flop, flip-flop.
Invisible paste prevents me
from opening my mouth.
I freeze in the stillness
of a statue.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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1 Response to Brain Benumbed

  1. annell4 says:

    I liked this, and the invisible paste!


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