She’ll pretend happiness was present
Fluttered sweetly on her flesh
Revived fantasies shaped like butterflies
Roaming freely inside her heart
The whispers are questions
Wounds made with droplets of tears
His sustenance was her scent
This is the end
He was once the beginning of her sentence
High in context
Her words unwind into a comma
With a mere period after his name
© 3/2007 by Cathy Delaleu
Artist: Lara Jade
It takes five dates for her to figure out he isn’t the one. The first date always sweet, soft and mellow, almost like a walk in Central Park at noon with leftover rain still moist on the ground and the potent smell of daisies. The second date sweet with the taste of hot chocolate and marshmallows in a small café, the intimacy almost giving her a cavity. She starts to believe his intentions are genuine when on the third date; popcorn and giggles are shared during movie night at his place. By the fourth date it’s blissful with dinner he prepares himself. Her heart grows soft for this near-perfect gentleman until…
1PM at work
“I thought you were going to eat at your desk,” he says over the phone.
“I changed my mind, I decided to eat downstairs,” she tells him.
“Who did you lunch with?”
“Some co-workers,” she replies.
“Men or women?”
“Huh? What kind of question is that?”
“Answer the question, were they men or women you lunched with?”
“Does it matter? Do I have to answer that question?”
“No, you don’t have to. I was just wondering.”
She finds it strange. The question didn’t make sense to her.
Their fifth date is when he tells her he is falling in love. She doesn’t feel the same.
“And why not?” he demands
“We hardly know each other”
“Are you interested in someone else? Is that the problem?” he says, raising his voice
“Yes, there is someone else. I can’t love you when I’m in love with myself.”
She walks away with a satisfied grin on her face. The signs were there all along, it takes five dates for her to see his true colors.
Poof, be gone!
Lyrics, poetry and art all meshed together