She enters my hideout and calls it her own.
Now I’ll have to move on, for my cover is blown.
I try to go deeper into my lair
but still she follows, finding me there.
I cannot escape her. She has all my keys.
She blows through my memory like a fine breeze,
usurping my details to make them her own
so I can’t reclaim them, wherever they’ve blown.
From a full-body mirror, she stares back at me.
My elbow’s her elbow. My knee is her knee.
She alters my hairdo and rouges my cheeks.
She searches my memory, looking for leaks,
then piles the lost parts up in her poems,
through her underground railroad, gives them new homes.
When I see myself spread out here in these pages,
some private part of me protests and rages,
but she doesn’t listen. She finds me too fussy.
She leaves herself open, the ungrateful hussy.
Does she not realize that it is me
who has made her whatever she’s turned out to be?
She should listen more closely when I say to stop.
Allow me to be her poetry cop.
But she doesn’t mind. She says what she wishes.
She dines out on me and leaves me with the dishes!
The prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “Hide.”

Lovely!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love how you have caught your alta ego… We all have one especially poets!
LikeLike
OMG…I had never heard this before. A perfect expression of the same idea. We are ships that would have passed in the night…had you not brought her to my attention.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Verse as naturally flowing as usual
LikeLiked by 1 person
A very unique poem Judy
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lol she is brilliant she sings the soundtrack of my life! …here’s another one
LikeLike
Beautiful and quirky voice and arrangements. I’d never heard her before.
LikeLiked by 1 person
she is an amazing artist she has over the years developed her music making gloves and progressed so far … You might enjoy this video.
LikeLike
Oh, Judy, that crazy woman poet inside you has the upper hand..just walks all over any modesty you try to claim. She knows she is damned good and her voice proves it over and over. I smiled BIG while reading your poem about that critter in the mirror. It helps to have a little light during these dark Trump days.
Ann from Cheyenne.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wish we lived closer so we could play together!
LikeLike
okay just two more then I won’t bore you any more.
LikeLike