written 2005.01.02
typed and uploaded 2005.01.07

“Affair, My Fair!”

I left the boy that thought he knew me so well
(Forget his name; maybe it’ll come--
Later),
Touched his face with the tip of my hat,
Bid him “Good day” and rode on off
Into the moonset (where he claims he found me--
Rubbish);
But not without a first kiss of
Fingertips to ties (snip-snap!--
End of that).
Took his heart when he (said he) took mine,
Treasured it like the (golden) roach it was;
I still don’t believe he (ever) loved me.
My last, somber grin shared itself with ((only)) one:
Turned ((up)) toward the rosy-gold reflection
In that puddle ((down)) by his feet.
Twist of a tailcoat and hoof-beat of worn leather boots,
Jingle-jangle of beaded Mardi Gras’
(Musical to the throat), I was
Off to dance with my new love
(Ah! Love--how ironic!--was that former fellow’s name!),
Her with those long, silky tresses of
Medusa-strung strands (O, petrify me, darling!),
Me with pining Sanity trembling (at the added weight) between our loins.
Her heart to mine and mine to hers,
We’ll dance hand in sweaty hand,
Drink, lips to flowered hips,
(My lovely Reality and I)
Until the sun falls ((up)) and
My heart rises ((down)) at
The sight
of
a
new
(im)perfection.

AGH. It killed my formatting. AGAIN. X.X

...We should start a petition on getting rid of this editing system. e.e; Who's with me?

(By the way, if you want the loveli-ly formatted version of the poem (although it's only just different symbols around words rather than parentheses -- it still does a lot for the poem, I think), it's posted on my Xanga (and LJ, if you know it): -- the date for that post would be 2005.01.07.)

Damascus Ochre