Star crossed lovers,
that is how it starts, and it is how it will conclude.
I can’t get her name off my pretty pouting lips,
like a servant to a spell,
I drink nectar from her kiss,
and I kill the years that approach the black, oak door we hide behind.
I am the grateful goddess of time,
but my subjects disobey me,
so all I can do is keep the door close and shoot arrows from the balcony,
while she writes a speech across my shoulders with her usual passion and veracity.
My candy sugar daddy brings me the spoils of war as I loiter in our kingdom,
wearing the black and white dress she wishes I’d worn for our wedding.
Chocolate and wafers as we watch the waves,
never waking up to the world outside,
and I pull the stars down from the sky,
like I pull apples from the trees,
just to see her smile.
She isn’t tired but she sleeps,
her eyes are closed and she’s cuddled into me under the lilacs,
like I’d always written,
and a little part of me starts to believe that life isn’t just a succession of suffering,
if I don’t want it to be.