Musings: Poetry by Nicole Vickers



All I wanted from summer was sticky fingers that had just emerged from clutching the pit of a fruit,

My fingerprints echo the sequence of the peach pit,

Ugly looking,

Prune like

Brown like the bottom of my feet after sun has cooked the top of them a bright red

Red that will fade like sunset over another humid Sunday

Too hot for clothes so we make do with my bed sheets

Wrap them like a toga around me

And my hands are begging me to reach for scissors

To cut my hair off

My heavy weight hair that shields my back from torching sun,

But adds to the beads of sweat that run races down my body

All of them reach the end

At some point in the day


On Leaving It Behind


After leaving it behind

About a year or two ago

I now confidently state

That I can hug my shoulders in the shower

Plant kisses on them twice

I remain in sight of running water

And feel the most satisfied I have ever felt

In my short entire life

By: Nicole Vickers

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