I wish with each passing star for a life measured in more than seconds.
The wind and rain grow harsh now for they know the ravages achieved.
When highlights adorned a new woman, I wished for a sky of almonds
and a sweet summer sweep through untouched hair, an idea conceived
when accidental parrots still whistled recognizable songs and before
self made forts were moved inside for safety. Sweet chocolate’s undying
veneration was discovered then. I wish for cravings of a slightly more
lasting solution. But snakes behind glass still spit their underlying
poison and hiss their memories of shattered water globes and Holly
Hobby lunch boxes. Slovenly comforts suppress baked cherry pies
and give pretense to smiles and other abandoned affections. Jolly
fabrications are quick to skitter out when deluged by unfolded lies
written on paper napkins. If fired words are false, pretense never dies.

12/05/2004

Posted on 12/05/2004
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