you are my confetti of cherry blossoms
scattered about the pavement
adored and singularly delightful.
thoughts of you explode
during spring afternoons
like piñatas floating through the sky, wrapped in their papier-mâché of
hot air balloons filled with sprinkles.
you arrive on a saturday, tanned and beautiful
for my birthday
filled with wishes and wine
company, conversation
and kisses.
I lay in your gaff
While you fill prescriptions
Of parenting.
Soaked ashtrays were never
My story.
You found it easy to make love
In that storm
And I found you
Silent for once —
You looked holy.
You sank into Bulmers
As I cleaned the mess;
Staring desperately — knowing
This creation would one day
Be hers.
I saw a silhouette of a bird circling the stone towers above – where you rest
Days seem to drift into a lifetime you were meant to witness.
Fullness fills my spirit with every circumference you initiate —
I trace your spirit to mine
fragile, girl like
hollow from the longing of something whole you once inhabited.
Regrets fill my daydreams, and my thoughts retreat to lack of time spent with you.
Only now do I fathom how scared you must have felt —
how alone!
And the painting above, the witness to your finality
Still hangs as a reminder of you, I once loved
and now
hope to encounter again
in spirit.
The lies you told fell far from my heart
I used to see them sitting in my lap, begging their way back in.
And then your words
They came creeping back into the pockets of my green corduroy jacket
Always the green one —
Your favourite.
Like that morning after the terrible fight we had had
Your little heart drawn on parchment with an arrow piercing through
Some would call that love
I only saw the wound it left —
How carefully you placed the spear just to puncture the appropriate part of me.
Those notes kept reappearing
Day after day
Years after you had exited my life
After I had exiled myself from yours.
I gave you your city
And came crawling back to mine.
I finally had to give away the jacket,
The presence of parchment in pockets had become unbearable —
Not only had you branded my heart
I found it hard to function when my clothes were victims too.
My triumphant return years later took you by surprise
By then you had public opinion in your favour
You had spent my absent years well;
Your gifted marketing campaign.
You tried to post your notes to me
Not realizing what I had done
The jacket was gone
And I had my life back.
drunk butterfly 