Flirts with disasters, subtly caged
by lena

I of the steel-walled heart fortress
And the shattered-house bedroom eyes,
I of the rejected propositions and
The murmured you wish you had its,
That fierce Aquarian nature, give me my space,
Knuckles bruised from all the hearts I broke
And the lies I told—
Unlike all the rest, you didn’t even have to try
You-of-the-armistice, you-of-the-cease-fire-in-me,
My battlefield body—
You didn’t even have to ask if you could come in,
You simply did
Maybe it was the tune you sang,
The half-beat of your snake-charmer dance,
Me the willing sacrifice to
Your black magic green fire eyes
I laughed at the notion of hearts, held the cards,
Used to be the one in control—
How you unraveled me I’ll never know
Like a land conquered I spread my goods
Before you, allowed you to pick through them,
Abandoning all that didn’t glitter—but if it
Didn’t glitter, I made it, for you
(you who are so worth it)
You who moved like classical music given muscle,
I danced to your tune,
Half in awe and half in fear of
What you inspired in me
How could I have known it was you
Who held the secret to distance,
The true intimate know-how of
you’ll never get in?
You conquer hearts blitzkrieg style,
No warning, they fall to their knees
With only a glance when you walk by
In the face of all this it is truly easy
To see just how forgettable I am,
I a mere gleam of dark in your shadow,
I met my heart’s match in you, all right;
I met my match
Hitler wasn’t satisfied with Poland;
How could you be satisfied with the
Bad-neighborhood district of my heart?
You, eyes moonbright,
Voice wind-through-grass music-sweet,
You who loves like the wild
Ocean sky wind and you, as inexorable as
The change of the tides and the slow
Bittersweet taste of first true, real, honest love—
You as inevitable as a life with a story to tell,
You as endearing as the inkstains on my
Fingertips for you—
The one who flirts with disasters,
Subtly caged,
You who are honeywrapped, young as a
Newborn’s first look at the world,
Old as myth—old as Lillith’s smile—
Me, as foolish as any of them.
I wonder, does it make you happy?
Are you proud?