the tenderness in your folds
the secrets that you keep
the closets where i hid
to get away from him
the cinnamon babkas tickled my tongue
while your eyes smiled to hear me
mis-pronounce chicken schnitzel
through my missing front teeth
reminiscence
words less spoken
Gen X’er chronicles the art form of living in the Angelino metropolitan environment through poetry, creative writing, art, photography, and culture.
words less spoken 
There are an awful lot of childhood secrets hidden in this little poem….
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yes Sue, some nice and some that have shaped me, but hopefully im shaped in a positive way, still a work in progress thanks for reading 🙂 lottsa love your way
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We are all, thankfully, still works in progress 🙂 It is often the darker events that shape us…and it is usually from those that we grow the most. Just think what it is in which roses grow best 😉
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Beautifully written Hon. I love you response to the photo. ❤🌼
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thanks Jen 🙂 ❤
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💜🙂 You’re always welcome
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Poeta is that place as full as melancholy as your words? Beautiful! Thanks for sharing
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obrigado Poeta, i lost my baby front teeth at around 6 or 7 and i sounded funny when i talked until the permanent teeth grew in. i thought it was a happy poem, but im thinking about my mother so i see where readers think its a little sad, thanks for reading 🙂
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