A dozen roses from another man -
If only I wanted him as I want you.
I had thought I was finished
With all his pomp and bravado,
But he arrives precisely on cue,
Poised as the saviour; always the saviour.
Once again, I'm within his arms,
Barely awake, my head
On his chest. I try to convince myself
That sound of his heartbeat
Must mean something,
But what? I do not know.
I grasp for a metaphor, for the justification
Behind his sugar-coated lust.
How sweet it is, for just a moment;
How it distracts me from you.
There are things we must discuss,
And yet you elude me
In the same way my own sense does
When he comes to my door,
Armed with a bouquet and those same honeyed words
That have deceived my heart
Time after time before.
YOU ARE READING
Refraction.
PoetrySo many aspects, colours and themes make up our experiences. Truly, is anything entirely good or entirely bad? Upon weighing up the positives and negatives of the past, do we not admit that even tragedy is- in a twisted sort of way- advantageous? O...
