Her: Cassandra Carpenter
Him: John W. Reddy
Poem in its entirety:
There are no foxgloves in a garden of ants, and no roses in a bayou. Just as all you see a form, but all I feel is potential. Just as you hear a voice, but all I smell is yellow. How can I then paint you, or sing you?
Decoated and deveined, as in the old times. I’m not who you set me out to be. I’ll have the last laugh when you’ll be drowned by your own breath. I feel it’s wrath inside, embellished by my fortune that’s my torture.
Sun is weighing down black, as the day reversed goes back. That voice in my head that cries loneliness must be eternal. I wish a kindred spirit see worlds through my senses. Feel closer now. Up we go, to float together.
I’ll chase my thoughts to find the fault. Exposed I remain, fatal, vain pretense. Keep the faith, the road widens. Hold tight, like fire on the sea. Feel closer now. Souls free guiding us to light. To float together.
Do I belong?