Love is blue hues peppering away
She fears planes
because she’s always been scared to fly.
I am he that needs redemption—
Does the Earth know exemption?
A boy and his pen I dream of books.
A boy and his pen I dream of quasar.
Now redemptions on your mind when you think about me.
I was ready to love you in white trim
You found delight in embarrassing me.
You taught me that night—
I’m not him.
These pages I overwrite
with words I whip to curse you
like a purple gallinule
may you never soar.
He wasn’t a flower
they were too exquisite. (although he wanted to be, so he could make people sneeze)
He wasn’t a cypress
they were too resilient. (otherwise he would have cracked the concrete)
He was born a ****.
(A yard reckoning wild black mamba)
In the ground, he felt smothered,
digging to a world he never knew.
He was an anomaly
someone who no one desired to water.
He was a problem,
Fruit flies in a Florida summer
He was a stain,
a blood smear on an angel white Kleenex.
He was a pain,
a sturdy lump in her kidney the doctor had to explain.
He dug through boggy dirt,
He dug through swampy mud
while the sky hiccupped tears,
constantly, continuously making
a path that he could climb.
a love amongst the elegant lantana.
Inspired by an old friend
— The End —