Living the good life in Key West that week was a double edge sword. I attempted to satisfy myself with fancy, coconut infused rum drinks garnished with spears of fresh pineapple nestled between Maraschino cherries. Sporting a new bikini and a choice spot… Continue
Added by Kim Soles on July 22, 2010 at 7:03am —
Blackened and lifeless, orange scales still shimmer.
When we left ten days ago, you swam with the other two, no signs of distress. Perhaps, three… Continue
Added by Kim Soles on April 10, 2010 at 9:10pm —
Barren and sullen, space creates memory.
Pour, fill, and satisfy.
More and more, it’s never enough.…
Added by Kim Soles on April 8, 2010 at 10:12pm —
“Look, another Barbie Mama!!” This one is a magical brown-skinned mermaid with a turquoise fanned fin and iridescent fabric is partially covering her svelte body; two permanent clam shells cover her breast that sit above her minuscule waist. I hand the laminated box to my mama so… Continue
Added by Kim Soles on March 25, 2010 at 10:00pm —
It’s okay to be celibate, really, just get into it, I try to convince myself, flipping the Rigatoni Alla Buttera from side to side on the oversized plate. I spear the ridged pasta with my fork and lick the savory cream sauce off the slippery noodle sucking it in gradually, biting… Continue
Added by Kim Soles on March 23, 2010 at 8:30pm —
Added by Kim Soles on March 4, 2010 at 6:00am —
I dialed the phone, nervous yet curious, anticipating our first phone meeting. Blending a smooth tone with an energetic spirit, his voice aroused me… Continue
Added by Kim Soles on March 2, 2010 at 6:35pm —
Torn up, twisted around, and turned inside out.
Added by Kim Soles on March 1, 2010 at 4:48pm —
Enchanted by her bare skin.
Young and fresh with green meadow eyes she sucked him in.…
Added by Kim Soles on February 14, 2010 at 12:27pm —
It was her turn, the third generation of women with a botched marriage.
“Can’t any of you get this right?” the ghost whispered over her shoulder.… Continue
Added by Kim Soles on February 13, 2010 at 7:19pm —
I fed the animals today.
The tabby, eyes eternal as fine amber unite with mine and I fill his dish.
The bunny, merrily dances circles as I stand still as a mulberry bush, she stops for a moment to accept green leaves.
The sleepy, sable eyes of the hamster pry wide open and I offer him striped seeds as he rises up on his miniature legs.
And the congregating birds; nuthatches, cardinals, red bellied woodpeckers, blue jays, juncos, wrens and chickadees,… Continue
Added by Kim Soles on February 9, 2010 at 9:45pm —
Its wings unraveled without witness.
Finding the beauty perched on the windowsill; she was mesmerized by its wings of gold with stripes of brilliant black leading to a touch of scarlet and blue.
“I’m sorry you were born in January, this is not the right time for you, is it?” she said sorrowfully to the delicate creature.
An unexpected houseguest that typically might have shown up in June, she offered it orange slices and sugar water.
Wings fluttered… Continue
Added by Kim Soles on January 20, 2010 at 1:26pm —
She picked up the downy, reddish tipped feather off of the frosty earth.
Examining it in her right palm, it will never weigh any amount.
The air at rest mimicked the two hundred year old magnolia tree that bowed before her.
This feather is not for keeping
she understood, and with lips pursed she blew ever so softly, imagining it dancing gracefully back to the land.
Not this feather.
Flying without its bird, swaying with sun trimmed edges, it… Continue
Added by Kim Soles on January 7, 2010 at 9:08pm —
Twelve golden elephants tiptoed into my living room.
Joining them, I sat down on my velvety, cobalt couch that dips in the middle from my bunny having plucked out the cotton stuffing.
“Now miss,” the first elephant spoke, the one with the royal magenta scarf, “When are you going to stop worrying?”
But before I could answer, the second elephant wearing a taffeta tutu with violets intricately stitched around the waist gently nudged him, “The question is honey,”… Continue
Added by Kim Soles on January 3, 2010 at 6:59pm —
Sharp tongued and intuitive, “I’m not your baby anymore!” she warned me.
She is breaking away, the way a twelve year old instinctively does.
Her slight, lingering limbs are graceful as determination satiates every bone.
She carries on as a dictator, her past life spirit clutching firm to its former self.
Desire pulls her far from me, as she chants “We are nothing alike.”
I understand, I am nothing like my mother, except she reminds me often that I am.
Added by Kim Soles on January 3, 2010 at 8:30am —
I remember playing with the little people, faeries and gnomes near the rose bushes on the side of my house and spending hours searching for four leaf clovers.
I remember being confused at nine years old when I returned home from a summer trip to Ohio and my dad explained to me that my mom went away for a while, suggesting that I should write her a letter.
I remember the soft skin of my grandma’s arm while she rested in her chair and I tickled her fluffy arm, then she… Continue
Added by Kim Soles on December 31, 2009 at 9:00am —
“Hello,” I managed to let out with a wheeze and a puff after running up the three flights of stairs to grab the damn phone.
“Honey, I want you to play 723 today, that was grandma’s number. Just play a dollar straight or whatever you can afford; it would have been her one hundredth birthday today. Grandma always hit big with this number and I know you are struggling, just think if you won, this would really help you.”
I agreed and grabbed a pen, inscribing 723 on my palm… Continue
Added by Kim Soles on December 22, 2009 at 8:23am —
Where are you now dear friend?
Is it dark and cool, comforting and warm?
You left on this brisk and stormy morning, your mind not wanting to go so soon.
The body that carried you for all of those years, with a beating heart as good as gold,
ceased while you slept.
And I, a part of you, dear friend.
And you, a part of me dear friend.
Added by Kim Soles on December 9, 2009 at 10:13pm —
My jumbled room is garlanded with jeweled tone, hand-dyed, balls of yarn that cheer up lonely corners. Scraps of wool and cotton fabrics, multicolored tubes of watercolors and boxes of pastels, chalk and oil, litter my wooden, sturdy work table and wait for their time to become. Coveted conch shells found long ago and newly fallen small twigs and branches with personality decorate the mantle. And then there’s my clock. My clock without hands. It prefers not to remind me of the time that rapidly… Continue
Added by Kim Soles on December 8, 2009 at 8:24pm —
Greeted by the sweetly
formed , frozen snow.
Twigs wide open
welcome me home.
A warm heart swayed tiny hands
to surprise a touched girl.
An ice-covered gift.
A sparkling statue of undivided love.
Finn did it again.
Added by Kim Soles on December 5, 2009 at 9:00pm —