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Moon Child

by June Labyzon

Moon Child

Hidden in the night of sheets, I fail to rise.
Names emerge, not of my being.
I no longer feel able to answer to that
bestowed upon me at birth.
The fit is loose.
I know a thing or two about reputation.
A name tells it all.
Time refined, the Junie fades to June to
the middle of the middle name.
Linda becomes Lynda.
I settle on Junlynda.
Most of this is just ego anyway
No need to explain my calling.
My emotions are packed in all the
right containers. A preoccupation with
egotism leads me to yoga classes,
weekly facials, pedicures and manicures.
Wrapped in banana leaves, pungent and raw,
I lie still… clutching the transparent soft breezes of lust.
On this quiet linen pre-dawn,
the familiar grows sublime once again.
JUNIE has a stranglehold, expands my confidence.
The light of the moon
perpetrating the laced veiled window releases
the "real me."
Shimmering, I escalate to levels of self-abduction
and bask in the gaudy spectrum of colors generated
by my ability to gratify my own yearnings.
The girl (once dead)
inside of me is embraced by
my desire; a star on the rise.
JUNIE

08/18/2013

Posted on 08/19/2013
Copyright © 2024 June Labyzon

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 10/01/13 at 05:43 PM

I have the highest regards and respect for June, but if Junie has to win out in the end, so be it. I tend to trust the child in me will never waiver its rights to remain alive and kicking and expressing a child's concerns inside the supposedly mature me, a maturity we all tend to wear like the Emperor's new clothing.

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