Life Scars…

Nothing in life is perfect and never designed but often, unscripted. Hope gives us the right to believe in tomorrow and as long as there is hope, there is belief, trust, faith in what’s to come. Believe that no pain is in vain, no sacrifice isn’t worth it or bare much fruit but scars of life, unscathed. Moving right along we keep, to an uncertainty we can’t foresee, with life always bringing us semicolons, a delay response to occurrences, one we may never understand nor comprehend, especially when now seems to be the wanted and the wanting, desirable. Yup, that faith within us!

©️ Angela Aguiar

Sealed Lips

I love your lipstick.
Thank you!
I love the color. It looks nice on you.
Thank you, I do too. It complements my skin.
What’s the brand name?
Maybelline, Revlon, Bobby Brown… perhaps? I don’t recall.
Oh yeah, what’s the number?
Now, sister, my lips are sealed…

(The nerve)

©️Angela Aguiar

Gaivota

She woke to the sound of the timber, loud and clear as if trumpted by the clock calculating the dear departed. It ran in obscurity, obsessively slow, solicitously mutating, taking a life of its own. She thought it was the town snake, snoozing its way through the mud; perhaps, the eerie dwarf across the street spreading a cheaper version of the salad dressing recipe to the residents but it wasn’t. Legend is, it wasn’t even a story but as clear as mama’s homemade grits: the old weasel, the security guard, drunk as skunk, snoring his hearts content as he slept.
©️Angela Aguiar