Where was I then? The first
Or second level of hell, or
The quietish interlude when
The sum of the two places
Was less than home?

She was an idiosyncratic
Ray of vintage sunshine,
All quirky fashion and
Charming obsession, disarming
In her lack of pretence or
Pretentiousness.

Perhaps I saw in her
Inspiration; aspiration to
A life in which I could be
Unashamedly, entirely myself,
Outsize feelings no longer
Squeezed into a tiny box of shame.

It was, of course, another
False dawn: before long I had
Found another round hole
In which to try not to be
Square.

Had she made it to the
Mansion, I fear she would have
Suffered the same fate.
Hopefully she has found a reality
As good as she imagined
The fantasy, but even better
Because it is real.

Wherever she is, I hope she has
Got there with her self
Whole and intact, unafraid
To be different, unafraid
To be her entire self.

06/10/2025

Posted on 10/18/2025
Copyright © 2025 Richard Vince