graphic by lyn enrico
In my dream,
We met in a park.
A tall girl with coffee-brown curls
Olive skin, her freckles
a map of the universe
Eyes of sage, organic
She sat on the plaid blanket donned with a wooden weaved picnic basket Drinking Earl Grey with cream
And honey.
The autumn foliage
Rotting away the viridescence
Of rich emerald summertime leaving All its memory behind and fading
The slight flash and flicker
of what I once felt for her
She told me she always knew
That entire summer
In the hallowed halls of prestigious academic wood and cedar
Cherry soda, camera film, and shared playlists That I was a bit too dear
Too sweet
Too vague but still it couldn’t be
She was too blithe
having yet to manifest
the joy and wonders
That I had already fought
So hard to finally find.
And with that, I would awake
In the first blush of morning.
Stirred with softness around me
abandoned in the grass,
vines winding around
my wrists as if I had been
Forgotten for just a little too long
Throat sore as if stung by the bitter night cold As if I had said too much, now punished. Feeling as a spirit, transparent.
Once again,
Betrayed by Anteros.