we were queens once
queens in classic corduroy jackets
embroidered with intricate paisleys, peacocks, and curlicues
in threads of pure silver, honey gold, and red
by handmaidens in dire straits.
slanty eyed women with summertime cork screw curls
they lived on streets thirteen to a room
in jute shacks lining railroad tracks
where we’d impinge at a whim through a tunnel
bombinating our way into their dire world.
bearing brews of damiana, saffron, chicory in ceramic cups
we’d swarm, queens with classic noses turned up,
our hair combed by these women
bringing bristle brushes to bear
upon our unruly potion filled heads.
they’d weave gold threads into intricate braids
before turning us out into tunnels
leading back to where later, down narrower roads
feeling vellichor at the sight of corduroy clothes
we’d remember: once we were queens . . .
this poem was inspired by the words in this wordle brought to you by . ………
. . …….. mindlovemisery’s menagerie