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The Closet

In the closet she hangs her clothes.

Gently, swiftly, she disrobes.

Coveted, loved, in the closet.

He comes back to her, her love.

A strange sparkle

Hand in glove, she loves him still

In the closet, by the window sill.

She dreams of her, sweet bliss

Sun kissed summer days

The heady haze of youth distilled

In the closet, retired now.

When will she come out?

In days of doubt resurfacing

like clouds, she is gay and proud.

Then like the wind, surrendering

beneath her skin.

The dark curtain, the sun’s bright rays

The subterranean gaze

A hurricane, disappearing in a vacuum of bigotry

Consigned to history,

she is out of the closet and into the crowd.

About Geraldine Ward

Geraldine Ward has been writing and performing various forms of poetry and prose from an early age, and is a regular contributor at the London Farrago Poetry Slam nights. She has published a number of books including the "Now" collection, and has featured in other publications including Katie Metcalfe's "Beautiful Scruffiness" series of magazines.


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