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Nobody lives upstairs.
A small purple cube,
on a huge, cozy bed,
it rests there.

Locked with a thousand keys,
a forgotten password,
rusted threads of steel
to make sure that
no one can get inside.

From that hidden place
the strange sounds slip out.

A formless entity that seems
to be alive,
to never go out,
is trapped for decades.
  
A small purple box
needs to be protected
from collapse,
by an inner yellow eye
so it doesn’t blink,
but watches to keep its secrets.

What is inside?
Envy,
jealousy,
desire,
or another force?

Should I name it aloud?
To understand,
to make real
the lost origin
of the human self?
  2d Agnes de Lods
Ian
Sky dons her ebon fleece,
So silent are the streets,
Town’s quiet but I
Can't sleep at all

I hurt the most come eve,
Jealous thoughts and scary dreams,
Why can't I just turn
My mind off?

But like snow in Summer heat
It just doesn't happen,
It just doesn't happen.
I wish we would never meet
But here you are again,
Here you are again.

I've not her gilded wings,
I've not his beauty,
Why do I lie and say I’m not
Another one of envy’s victims?
“There’s a cow at the table,” I whispered, not wanting to be rude.
It’s horns curled like question marks, which seemed quite Apropos
Now that I’ve been to college, I can tell you, there’s a lot that I don’t know.
But a cow at the table, no matter how well dressed, left me, well, confused.
“How do you Dooooo?” I offered, friendships should begin straightforwardly.
When it didn’t answer, I thought, “Well this friendship’s starting off awkwardly.”
Was it hard of hearing? I wondered. “Have you mooooved here recently?” I asked, loudly.
Again, nothing, it just sat there proudly. Did it take my attempt at dialect, as a sign of disrespect?
“Would you like some fooood? I asked, “Some hay maybe?” I was guessing, but it was a guest.
Some friendships start out slowly, but holy-moley, was this livestock trying to troll me?
After some aggravation, and impatience, it turned out to be an elaborate, fraternity initiation.
.
.
*Based on Leonora Carrington’s painting “Then We Saw the Daughter of the Minotaur.”
https://www.moma.org/artists/993-leonora-carrington
VB Challenge: The surrealist painters Remedios Varo and Leonora Carrington moved to Mexico during the height of World War II, where they began a life-long friendship. Write a poem themed around friendship, with imagery or other ideas taken from a painting by Carrington, and a painting by Varo.
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