after Always Together, artist Vladamir Kush
We are a pair
of scissors. Twin blades, coming
apart, moving together. The perfect symbol
of union and disharmony. We are sanctified
emblem of commonality. A blessed union
of regression, progressing through life,
we cut our way through one day at a time.
I Could Love Him
if I knew how to let him breathe
inside my world.
if I could trust him to move
without my skin mimicking the motion,
without my name needing to be
tattooed across his lips.
if I wasn’t already drowning
in memories of past attempts,
held under by the weight of scars –
not all self-inflicted.
A Fleeting Thought After Re-Reading The Great Gatsby
All true love stories are tragedies, as
no beauty can exist without juxtaposition against the dark.
Does that make my loveless existence a comedy,
or simply the mirror’s shallow reflection
of lessons learned?