Member-only story
A Lover for Life
Free verse
He calls her the flower
and grooms her
until she believes him
and blooms.
And when she’s ready
not to see anything wrong in it
he rips her off from the garden
and puts her in a whisky bottle
kept close to his heart,
at times,
when he doesn’t cast her aside
to handle his real life
worth his integrity, decency,
respect and sacrifice.
When he comes back,
he gets the bottle so close
she reaches out to touch him,
only she can’t, because of the glass.
All she can do is staring at him,
so she stares with hopeful eyes,
half aware the obstacle also
smoothes the edges
of the image perceived.
But the flower stares and waits
for the promised day
that never ever arrives.
The flower waits and waits
until she bronzes, shrinks
and finally withers.
And that’s the end of his fun.
