She dressed in black
Since the age of twenty-three.
She covered all her insides with
The blackest sack cloth.
She made sure to let in no light.
She wanted it dark, pitch black inside.
Outside, people thought she wore jewels
Of many different colors,
Sparking and brilliant they said she was.
They didn’t see the black she always wore.
For many years,
She hid the black cloth well
For the sake of those she loved.
But on her story goes,
Those she loved drained her,
Drained her dry as they say.
That’s when the black cloth began
To creep out her navel and down her thighs,
Lowering itself to cover every inch of her
From waist to ankle.
Everyone thought she wore black slacks,
But she knew better.
She knew it was the black from inside.
Those she loved never bothered
To deposit what they’d withdrawn,
So soon, the black oozed out her ears
And down to her shoulders, her arms, her torso,
Meeting the black at her waist.
She was covered inside and out
With the black.
By then everyone said
She looked good in all black,
What with her silver hair and all.
By the time the black covered
Her hands, her feet, her face,
And even the whites of her eyes,
No one noticed she’d disappeared.
But she was there,
Hidden in the black.
I am a retired teacher, enjoying said retirement. I have been active in the gay and lesbian community since I threw away my Ken doll at the age of four.
You can read more of my writing at Hearing The Mermaids Sing