Our Cinquain Month

Here are the cinquains we read during the annual Winter Pair Reading for Girls Write Now; we enjoyed them so much, we continued writing even after the reading was done. So here are the first ones; more to come later.

(Morgan)
At the
marina, we
dance with the tide. I taste
your cigarette; it feels like a
secret.

(Shira)
Secrets
grant me power,
embodies my mind for
one day I am released and all
unfolds.

(Morgan)
Unfold,
I will my hands.
They open, a pattern
of lines, meanings unknown. And I
reach out.

(Shira)
Reach out.
I should be free,
stifled in my skin I
shake, uncontrollable urge.
I blush.

(Morgan)
I blush
more often now.
This skin developed a
secret language, betraying
my thoughts.

(Shira)
My thoughts
are an island;
I am flesh and loose, clean
closed eyes, no tears to justify me
crying.

(Morgan)
Crying
once, out on Fifth
Avenue, it started
to rain, leaving mascara trails.
Forgive.

(Shira)
Forgive
stupidity,
his blind words disabled,
I take the pen, palm wide. Eyes write
visions.

(Morgan)
Visions
told me, married
at twenty eight, her hands
holding mine. A prophecy I
don’t want.

(Shira)
Don’t want
inhaled voices,
women suffocating from
a pillow they can’t afford, slapping
the truth.

(Morgan)
The truth
is more of a
palette, the colors just
swirl into a bursting shade of
answers.

(Shira)
Answers
circulate a
reality, my feet
twitch with unfiltered blood, shake and
define.

(Morgan)
Define
a hunger so
innate it’s like breathing.
It spells out its name in whispers,
it hunts.

(Shira)
It hunts
a doe so rare,
with one blazing trigger.
Fall heard by one; did she ever
exist?

(Morgan)
Exist,
singular state
of mind. The lights flicker
and dim, I don’t even notice
the change.

(Shira)
The change,
so profound, I
recoil; shivering mass,
invisible on mountains of
the past.

(Morgan)
The past
hovers, moves like
a ghost ship in shadows,
its dull-eyed passengers lead us
ahead.

(Shira)
Ahead
I dream futures,
my life scenes in a play,
a confused director missing
her script.

(Morgan)
Her script
stops here, no need
to rewrite dialogue
when the real words just fall out, just
renew.

(Shira)
Renew
passion lost when
learning complicated
fragile innocence; looking glass
shattered.