Thread: Big Balloon (mature)

Big Balloon

Red rubber, limp, dangling from a porch swing chain,
collecting birthday candle blows, magic glitter
flitting between your laugh lines and my baby rolls.
Back and forth, we make the wind whistle lullabies,
tie ribbons on the balloon tail.
Shiny ringlets make a scarf around my neck.
Time to blow a little harder.

Gently pulling my body in all directions,
peeling layers, you leave me raw in the pinches
of your circular breaths. Iron me out.
You finger through my braids, kiss my cheeks in waves—
the crest is just so far.

Elliptical balloon. Pulsing with propelling,
a tongue between thighs. You are stretching me out.
Big gust. Chains in chaotic swings that dissolve
all my ruffles. Exposed and lusted.
Tightening rubber when you were on the inside.

There is our ball, riding bits of sickened air
when you are riding me,
gathering debris on a thinning surface.
Overfilled. I am so dirty.

Busted in love, in sex.
Daddy never blew up balloons after that.

I've been back to look at this a few times and I'm surprised that nobody else has yet commented. I like the imagery you use and the twist in the last line.

I have to echo Baron regarding both the imagery and that last line. I have no suggestions, I can't see how anything could be improved by tweaking. I thought your use of laugh lines/baby roll was brilliant, that's where the red flag goes up. Very sensitive material which is probably why people have been so quiet, you've done you job so well, reading this makes one uncomfortable. I'm sick to my stomach right about now and can only pray this is fiction.

Best,
Lisa