Let your mind aerate from the pollution of the world,
& let it soak into the clean waters I’ve prepared your soul.
I wish I could grow old,
Knowing I have you to hold and together we can mold and age with each other as thresholds.
I don’t mean to be bold, but if I get cold, can you promise that your heart is the opposite?
Can you promise me that age will not turn that thing into ice, & that it will be suffice, for me?
I am the woman, whose heart menstruates for a love that does not exist.
A queen who birthed all the things you loved when we were young,
***, love and ecstasy, is all you wanted really.
You were never one to return the favor,
& so I sit here, pondering still, that if I get cold, will your heart be the opposite?
Will those vows you proclaimed at our American wedding, while staring into my tender eyes,
As they pierced into your nonexistent soul, still prove true in our older years?
I can only question the future because I probably won’t make it there.
& if so, will you look for another *** of gold in a woman inferior to me?
--Gabriela Collie