Black White by Tricia Marcella Cimera

Your smooth black hair
lies against the white,
white pillow.
Your dark eyelashes
lightly touch your
pale face.
Your curved mouth
is open,
simply,  innocently
breathing.
This time in the morning
when you are still
asleep,
is like new snow —
soft, white and
uncomplicated.
It’s when you
wake up
and begin telling
the lies that run
out of your mouth
like thick black oily
ink
onto a clean page —
then
there is no denying
what you are.
It’s as clear as
black and white.

Tricia Marcella Cimera 032316

Tricia Marcella Cimera is an obsessed reader and lover of words. Look for her work in many diverse places including: the Buddhist Poetry Review, Hedgerow, I Am Not A Silent Poet, Mad Swirl, and Silver Birch Press. Tricia believes there’s no place like her own backyard and has traveled the world (including Graceland). She lives with her husband and family of animals in Illinois/in a town called St. Charles/by a river named Fox.

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