She Is

Her smiles chase lightning
around your chest
like adolescent
school yard pests
her laughter fills your head
lifting off in the only form
buoyancy on the edge
of something disquieted

Her tears bear gravity
In an unbeaten press
like white rides and rip tides
against your judgments’ best
her sobbing leaves you wet
Torrential bricks in your chest
sinking under the heaviness
Somber cheeks when depressed

Her anger sets ablaze
the cotton soft hairs
behind your neck
like scrapping sparks
held in the flames then liberated
afloat long enough to cave
deflate and give way
swiftly quiescent aside the mess


Her comfort gives you rest.

Kelly Curiel
March 3, 2008