Girlfriends

I.
My first was a foolish darling.
Her clumsy laughter
Bellowed in my soul.
She was uncomfortably fat
And never serious.
The sadness fascinated me,
Though I never brought it up.
I was devoted as a dog
To our private jokes,
Our obsessive loves.

II.
One is firm and aloof
To attach to her I must
Become luggage,
I must somehow submit.
There is preciousness
In her broad mouth
And stern eyes that
I love and fear.
She wants to mother me,
But I rebel repeatedly.

III.
One is friendly as a sister
But not too meddling.
She won’t judge me for
My always changing story.
She has narrow finger-tips
And wise eyes like the cat.
Her voice is genuine,
With love or complaining,
But still I hesitate
To always run to her.

IV.
One is true and caring,
Sweet as taffy but sad.
Our tears mingle on some
Star-crossed schedule.
Her small shoulders are mine
And I can give back to her.
I see us as old ladies
Still suckling babies
And praying together
For hopeless causes.

V.
One is a dear, brash hen.
Her voice and her laugh echo
In my heart, in my stomach.
I can’t tell who the child is,
She or I, but I trust
Her simple manner,
Unapologetic and above all
Genuine. Barefoot and strong,
Carving her niche
And showing me how.

VI.
One is fickle and queer,
Fragile as a sea-urchin,
Eerily insightful and nice.
She tells me what I want
But I shy from it.
Too true. Close to the bone.
She is awkwardly beautiful,
A soft-ripe melon.
Her pain and regret permeate
Every flinching word.

VII.
Most recently is one
Whose constant smile disarms.
I expect so little from her
But am surprised by abundance.
I am invited back for more
In spite of myself.
She is thin and pure,
Radiant with God-love.
I fear my own selfishness
Could abuse such clean giving.

VIII.
I cringe to consider
Myself in the light of friendship;
How they see me,
What they must know of me,
The ugly and beautiful,
Raw persona exposed
Like a peeled grape.
I listen, but never call.
I love, but rarely act.
I hope they see the sincere part too.

(c) Tasha Chinnock 2006