First Love Lost

“A close-up of a deep red rose covered in dewdrops” by Simone Dalmeri on Unsplash

First love lost, and the rest turns to dust New rose blooms from first rose’s rust Discolored, stained by old deceit, First love’s leaves grow to strangle the seed

The arrogant flower, humbled, resigns itself to the anonymity of weeds To mourn the proud hour of its vain stand Against the lies of the wise and the father’s advice The moment when it stared defiantly at the sun With uncompromising faith In something beyond biology

Afterwards, what can possibly remain the same? Just as sugar dulls the taste So joy does the heart, and hurt does the pain Who among us wouldn’t give everything To feel any of it, again?

To see your face again as I remember it That perfect way you looked away Whenever you laughed To feel that again, that innocence, To be so consumed…so consumed I would trade my many mirrored days And forfeit the labored insistence Of tomorrow’s return

But, you’ve been the woman you’ve been for so long now Laying your days down behind you like blankets Trying to stay warm And have suffered enough nights without magic To have earned the right to forget

In the spring of our senses In the time of our witness Hand in hand amongst the wonder That aches like a mirror without reflection We found a world together That was lost the moment we discovered it

And, to that green moment of uncertain exhileration We, withered, our whole lives yearn to return Scratching at dark corners Like miners whose lamps have burned out Exhausting ourselves in pursuit Of a place to rest

But the effort is already Doomed to be fruitless For no future love Can ever be so rootless As to not be fertilized By our first love’s lies

Perhaps a little laughter, after all, Is the best that we can hope to find

So, with that, I bid you goodbye And return to the sorry company Of my new love’s mediocrity

The Land Beyond the Mirror

In this land, nothing dies but to be born again.

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