Prize of Inspiration
for Shonika Curry

always was made to feel less than solid
by seeing her

translate into some substance,
light enough to be added to air
like moisture, like vapor, able to quiver, shiver

but never more in this state than today
able to feel her loving me

that transforming me, acting upon me
like sun upon a street, upon a tar road

and up ahead shimmering in air, place in the road
where water would seem to have gathered

get there to find what was thought to be water
is but a mirage

able to alter the state I’m in similarly

in "Amélie," waitress encountering young man she's in love with
after she had served him, as he is leaving, she liquefies

falls upon the floor in a splash, in a flash, it felt like that or almost
when she greeted me, "Obie, would you like something to drink?"

when she treated me, too sweet almost to bear
two weak legs to bear me up, to bear my weight

I as much liquid as what she served

how I've watched her meticulously working
watched as her body changed

what does not/has not changed
is how pretty she is or how sincere


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2009
12:12 a.m. 29.08.09