A Spoke She Never Asked For
She was afraid of sunshine. How did that start, when did she first allow herself to know, or does she perhaps still wonder? She hides from the rays of the ruby sunrises and glorious sunset hues reminiscing over how natural it used to be to sunbathe. She'd lather on oil and present her body for lingering exposure, secretly hoping for loving kisses, yet too often bitten by unseen teeth. The cherry burns were not the cause of her fear. It was perhaps more a worry over being seen than one of being harmed. She'd been spared the dull surprise of an uneventful life, melodrama was the center of a spoke she never asked for, and the darkness offered a reprieving calm that the harsh light drove away. In the darkness the wheel stopped spinning. In the midnight moments she could find her feet and count her toes and remember the days when that was more than enough.