Rainbow Road

As the room darkens I sit in front of the mirror -
just close enough to catch my skin glint
ever so delicate on a moonbeam

Terrible voices can be heard above and below –
the solemn stance of a singer hiding stealth,
the other a busy caretaker of film and arts

her voice rises young clear
but so obviously stained by tears
his baritone bleeds into the room
like a thunderclap, I stood
still, just delicate in my new pajamas

with silver streaks of time wading out
and hitting my ankles.
Restless and wrestling over
her night affairs come to light
how she hit the street

breasts gleaming in the morning sun,
unashamed, no longer hidden and
through time we see together how

blessed is she, hitting the
Rainbow Road fancy in
silk heels and toile skirt, only a
bottle of hormones under her wing
straining to be relieved of someone elses
grasp.

BY MORTY DIAMOND