Just One Possibility

“I swore you sang,” she said, she said.
“It sounded like champagne and chandeliers
and when I awoke you were present,
but only in body, never in spirit.”
She turned away,
her back to the day,
and she remembered
the look in your eyes
when her hand first
touched your thighs.
In the back of her head
she began to feel frantic;
She never say anything
about romantic.
But intentions are hidden
in words that are rusted,
her hands search to find
a lie that can be trusted.
Her perfect nightmare
pulled apart
when your eyes seared through
her broken heart,
but the fairy tale gone wrong
found its unhappily every after
after all; in a long
story that read
like a sonnet
dictated by a ghost.
“At most,”
he replied,
“you actually love me” -
a pause -
“but that’s just one possibility”
and he folded his face into his hands.


************************************


This poem has been plaguing me for days. I gave up. I can't tell whether it's done. I just don't know. It's challenging because I'M not sure what the true intentions of my characters are. I can see it from so many angles. However, I kind of like that because so much is left up to interpretation. Read it at least twice. I don't think you'll see anything on a first read. These characters are not just Cliche-Boy and Cliche-Girl. There's a tension, but I don't know with whom it lies or where it begins...or even exactly what it's regarding. It's about the consequences of a dream.









“Shakespeare sang ‘err on err,’ so I sang.” Sunny Day Real Estate Rodeo Jones