by Aurora M. Lewis
In a mason jar propping open

The wood frame of a window

Blue beads a trophy on display

Had I seen them there sparkling?

He asked as I poured myself

A drink to cool me from the

Heat of love making  

I stared at the beads shining

There in the moon’s light

Beads of varying shades of blue

How appropriate that they be

A color of sadness and pain

And still he asked me again

To be sure I had not missed them

Like asking me the time of day

As if a dancer's blue beads

Took prominence over

My wants and needs

A heart that was slowing

Cracking from the strain

Of loving a man who

Didn’t want or need my love

I conjured up images of

This blue bead dancer

A Salome-like creature

Hips and pelvis churning

Eyes enticing and alluring

Dancing just for him

And when I had left and she

Returned would he ask her

If she saw the broken heart

In the jar there in the window

Given to him by me?
Aurora M. Lewis recently  
completed UCLA's Creative
Writing Certificate Program.
She returned to writing from
a 35-year hiatus after
surviving an erupted brain
aneurysm in 2005. Her
poetry and fiction can be
found in Dreamers' Reality,
the Battered Suitcase, Up
the Staircase and
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