the girl is pale magic celadon with a glossed streak,
one of one, strung up in an eosine pink velvet bikini.
the scholarship girls call her sissy before rehearsals
when the mint candy click of a plastic heel signals her arrival.
she collects things, earrings, these balls of heavy magnified glass,
in a piece of water — a jellied bag colored chlorine bath.
the contents of her petroleum purse float lotus in the pool
of cecilia rockford. sacred and saccharine cecilia, who are you?
gift cards, suncream, and liquid inspiration. prayers for courage,
frosted lipstick, teal rim reading glasses, and four jade door handles.
pantone slips that match each color of her outfit, headache pills,
fluorescent cashmere, a summer two years ago, and an invitation.
pear soap, a silken pouch of crystal toe rings, daydreams, ginger chews,
time alone, and a prize ribbon sporting the title lady of ever.
her things say much about her heart in a citrine secret language.
like an iridescent hint buried and shimmering like a wave waxing topaz,
cecilia is pale magic, illusively sheer with a blur strong enough to fantasize.
~~~
Erin Shields is a poet who writes about things that please her. She is an MFA candidate in Creative Writing at West Virginia University, where she studies poetry and teaches first-year composition. Her poems live in The Hemlock Journal, Tough Poets Review, The Michigan City Review of Books, and elsewhere.
