His purple and black excuses
I took apart and understood
The weight of his self-regard
I let shatter every grudge...
Those sultry evenings spent in the park
Wasted on an aching, tempted organ
Valued in a young lover's eyes
Yet so imperfect in memory's script-
I let loose
And dismissed.
The summer was so gracious
To bring me this stump
Of an imaginary orchard...
His juvenile, crafted mind was all it took
To intertwine my willing heart
With fresh layers of deceit.
And ingrown plans of becoming Captain-
Pilot. Politician. Priest.
Replaced my own rosy fantasies
With visions of vassalage.
I can pretend that the Others
All those others trampling days upon weeks
And weeks into eternity
Playing the familiar trend of pretend as well
Broke me down to silent nods among screams
And cordial "no thank-you's" in seas of approval...
But ever has it been his stony mark
Lacking warmth, forgetting mercy
That stays its emerald shade on my beating flesh
Changing colors with the seasons.
His haunting flies closer by-
Rots my engine of a dream with reminders
While the planets dancing overhead
Fulfill their part in prompting
"He could love half-way every time-
Leave you with so much inside, so much
Still
Burning
To
Give.
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