Her – A Poem

Beneath the grit/ you saw it,

but you didn’t feel the need to polish.

You handed me a dirty rag and grunted like you always did in moments like this.

You asked me what I saw-

I saw something rather broken,

I saw soot and scratches-

Your response was that raise of one brow-

So I leaned in closer now

and frustrated I wiped at darkness

as though I might a sword at war with the night.

I scrubbed and scrubbed

The cool night air blew back my damp hair

As a pixelated image like the coming dawn was drawn before me

I began to see more clearly-

It – was moving now.

My own breathing beating like drums against tired ribs

I wiped this way and that way

Sweat now dripping from my face

pooling with tears of frustration.

I saw colors like prisms surfacing

and I could see the sun.

I could see emeralds glinting-

Moving // blinking,

I used my elbow against the mirror now,

Slowly crouching closer,

and I could see what you saw all along,

I had finally found her.

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About Gretchen Leary

I am 30 years old, I live in the Boston area, and I am writing from the perspective of an individual with Asperger's Syndrome.
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3 Responses to Her – A Poem

  1. Renee Espriu says:

    What a beautifully written poem Gretchen. So happy to see something new posted to your site. Hope you are well.

  2. Rowan Taw says:

    Really enjoyed the anticipation of what you were going to discover.

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