I worry I can no longer pretend
anything,
my face gone clear as a billboard
and as large,
telegraphing what it is I have
for sale, or worse,
what it is I’d rather hold back.
I worry that I’m now a balloon,
obvious as I blot out the sun
for a moment
before I travel on,
invisible, but bound to
strangle a sea bird or a turtle —
some creature that finds me subtle,
not clear enough at all.
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Today’s optional prompt at Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads was to borrow a line from another poet. I borrowed “I worry I can no longer pretend” from Tarfia Faizullah’s “Poem Full of Worry Ending with My Birth.”
Marilyn Rauch Cavicchia 
I’ve missed reading you Marilyn!
Awww, thank you! It’s been a while.
my own damn fault, which I have corrected.
🙂
The balloon, the seabird, the turtle…….a very cool poem.
Great line to choose, and where it led you was fascinating.
I love how you “were” these different things. The images are great.
Brilliant imagery in this one, Marilyn!😍😍
“or worse,
what it is I’d rather hold back.” It is so awful when our secrets or hidden vices or whatever are revealed …
Interesting and clever write of revealing too much of ourselves…
Anna :o]