Cotton-Candy
Story ends are always hard to
develop – they're elusive, silkily slipping through fingertips.
Tempering attraction, like chocolate on
the stovetop, prevents a dull grey romance. It's simply a
fact of life.
Standing
motionless as wax statues, we disconnect. A princess might kiss a
frog to find a prince, but should she wonder
how he came to be a frog? Sometimes a sweet love turns
sour, and what to do then? If you continue to add sugar, can it overcome the sting?
Snow always comes after the cherry tree blooms, freezing buds right off.
Blessings are few and far apart, and we're growing old to
boot. Is there nothing here worth saving? Or has our past been a complete
waste? I guess I just wasn't sweet enough, or smart enough to pass the
tests you set for me.
However, if I recall correctly, was it not you who fell into every pitfall?
And I did not bury you in your mistakes. No matter how far we
traveled, the home of our heart always remained
unkempt.
As children, we imagined love as pink and fluffy hearts,
no one ever told us they'd melt like cotton-candy. No one ever said
pigs could look like princes and some snakes aren't
venomous.
It's not a fairytale, it's love.
It's not easy and it's not gentle.
Love is never the end to a story.
There's no happy after everafter.
YOU ARE READING
The Dragon Became a Modern Poetaster
PoetryPoetry is a dance of words, a guise of flesh, and a reprise of thought. The myths of old are forgotten on modern tongues. Such adventurous spirits seek new vessels - fresh words to don and call their own. We shall write them home, you and I. Let the...
