His Discarded Love Letter To Her
His Discarded Love Letter To Her
His love letter to her,
quickly
discarded
didn't fill her envelope
or her heart
for his
dying flame
that never grew.
And a match to candle
brought little light.
For a caricature of us,
eleven months later,
drawn by his voice
brought
shades darken,
shapes drooping,
mouths pouting.
And the candle sits idle,
next to Austin,
her cat,
sweet cat,
no doubt catnapping
of where he has been.
It would have
been good to see
the curtain calling
less the Ferris wheel
spin, spin, spin
and
less
cotton candy dreams
caught in the mill
of spite.
And his sugarless face
yearning for her smile.
Knotted.
But there were two lone souls
birthed
on a muted axis
of mime and games
pantomiming
back stabs
on faux dark clouds
into each
into
mystery
into each, repeatedly.
Written words that choke life
her written words
demean
the once blue skies
known once upon a time,
now he swallows
sadly
by
default.
connie pachecho
6/16/17
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