Blue Bells

V

V

July 30th, 2020

Sometimes like a second heart,

other times like a tumor,

they grow on me,

weighting me down,

dragging me down

the grave of my puerile fantasies.

I once loved

the fragrances –

the sweet aroma of milk and

the soothing scents of large hands.

Warmth bubbled into giggles, and

I was ready to grab, to hold,

to embrace

each and all.

Where has this love gone?

This love that is pure, simple?

This love that is bold, fearless?

Light and shadows...

their outlines were so clear,

their meanings, so simple...

Sweet sugar and bitter salt shouldn't blend,

poison shouldn't be laced with honey,

and a warm hand shouldn't hide a cold knife.

This soothing voice

should have read me bedtime stories and

not invited me to your carnival.

This warm, strong hand

should have guided me down the aisle and

not left me in a house of distorting mirrors.

You have shown me much

about Life and Love,

about the women in your carnival.

Now I think you were joking, because

isn't it funny

that women are dispensers of scions

but cannot name their scions after them?

Isn't it funny

that women should wither like flowers

while you sip on the wine of their blood?

Isn't it funny

that I am lesser

because of some double crosses in my chromosomes?

To pillage, to ravage, to consume...

perhaps, this is human nature,

but to season and simmer an oblivious heart,

you put Dolos and Loki to shame, I thought,

but fear not,

today I know,

you were joking, and

I laugh at your jokes;

I laugh

as one should laugh at the absurdity

in a house of mirrors,

I laugh

as one should laugh at the clowns

in a carnival.

Today, I will shatter the mirrors

one by one.

Today, I will summon the dead

from their dusty graves.

Today, I will love

this one here and the ones to come,

not because of some chromosomes,

but because love should be

pure and bold.