Now We Stand and Sulk
Now We Stand And Sulk
We were the two
standoffish
in a small pond.
One day,
how I wished
we got carried away,
to a rubbing
of our fins and bellies,
so fond.
Life would have smiled on good fate,
a favorable life,
how my eyes belay.
Instead gloom frowned on and on,
off and off,
over and over.
At worst it brought me to her,
lost and lost.
When we did get carried away,
on a magic carpet,
to aquarium land,
our tails touched briefly
to her indifference.
Bubbles shot to the surface,
hers,
big round ones,
made just for me.
I looked at her puffing lips,
bad,
"I hate you."
I look back,
my puffing lips,
bubbling,
to no effect,
"asking why."
She raced away.
See I told you.
Our life now a crayon box
of pebbles, plastic seaweed,
my votive candles,
and unanswered prayers,
inside a glass box,
us,
swimming inharmonious.
Yet we're petted,
externally,
and not internally
to the puzzlement
of onlookers and me.
Each day passing by,
the two standoffish,
each immune,
to sitting together.
connie pachecho
2/16/18
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