sábado, 27 de diciembre de 2008

Mami Heels

3 comentarios:

  1. Mami Heels me sugiere mucho
    más cada vez

    me parece maravillosa.

    Un beso,


  2. Mami heels

    Mrs Black wore shoes of every colour
    With bracelets and handbags to match.
    Permed hair bouncing through school,
    she sang her way down wooden floors,
    her painted smile the opener of hearts
    and doors.

    "Dance, prance, twist and twirl, tring-a-ling"

    Our mother never dressed
    like Mrs Black, but wardrobe-hunting
    revealed, tucked behind trainered rows,
    stilettos, shiny red and green. A whirl
    of sticky fingers fastening buckles,
    we were suddenly sisters of all the
    lipsticked long-nail ladies ever seen.

    "Twizzle and circle and turn, tring-a-ling"

    Teetering steps in mummy’s heels
    led us to rooms of smoking men
    with jokes we didn’t understand, so
    we laughed whenever they laughed,
    wriggled under tickling hands, tottered
    under shifting eyes, proud to join
    those games that adults play.

    "Oopsadaisy, we all fall down, tring-a-ling"

    then, that I should stand here today
    in this room of waiting shoes and
    not know how to choose, chasing
    all that we lost the day that child-
    hood ended in the tying up of straps.

    "Up and away goes the girl, tring-a-ling"

    the way you ask leaves no choice
    if you use the right kind of voice
    I will be your Mrs Black. Heeled,
    I will pose, prance, strut and twirl
    but inside I will be quietly curling
    into twists of tight unknowing like
    the little girl that Sunday afternoon
    stumbling into the grownups room.

    "Dance, prance, twist and twirl, tring-a-ling"


  3. "S" ahora tiene un blog: