dyra darling, have you seen the rainbows over the meadow?

dyra darling, did you find the warm taste of milk near the farm field?

I havent, I havent

dyra darling, can you help me untie my emotions and put them in our closet?

I cant seem to pick up my self bleeding near our faucet.

I cant seem to find the milk and the rainbow,

I can only feel the sorrow of the storm near the meadow.

I can only feel the hurt that goes through the animals ready to die in the farm.

Dyra Darling, please leave me alone. Your presence suffocates my freedom.

Dyra Darling, please stop loving me, you will only be scarred for the rest of you life.

But dyra, you gave me happiness no one has ever given me.

yet dyra, after all this time I dont know why I stay.

I tell you i need space, in hoping i will see your face.

I tell you I cant speak, in hoping you would understand Im weak.

Dyra Darling, i hope you stay. your presence is worth more than a moment of freedom

Dyra Darling, I will run to the end of the rainbow just for you to see,

that no matter how broken I am,

I love you and I want you to stay right beside me.

You wanted to spare the blushes of the little boy
Who had ordered the book with the explicit cover
So you called him into the privacy of the corridor:
"Dyra fo yn dy ***"* you suggested gently
Handing over a book warm to the touch,
Wrapped in sellophane (as if to try to contain its power).

I've never forgotten that one-act play, nor its elements:
The subject compressed within its covers,
Your understanding and thoughtfulness,
The bewilderment of my ten year old self,
The discernment of Sbondonics**
But mostly the Hellfire unleashed by Little Boy fifty years prior.