Yeah, I know it’s a week later, but I’ve been revising,
and that’s my right as a writer. If you
want to complain, I guess that’s your prerogative, too. Just don’t expect me to listen. As it is said, complaining is like sitting in
a rocking chair. It gives you something
to do, but it doesn’t really get you anywhere.
For those who just want me to finish the story, keep your
pants on (please!) while I explain to those who are lost that they need to go
back and read the previous post (14 February 2013) to catch up. Hurry up.
I won’t wait long.
In honor of the “holiday” that, in my opinion, is a mild form of the extortion
of the males of this species, I ordered Amy flowers, which were delivered on
the 13th— lilies and orchids (I think). On the actual day itself, I had to go to
class (boo!) So, I had my colleague
(Thanks, Katrina!) drop off a package at my house while I scooted off to sit in a hard, plastic
chair for another 150 minutes.
The package contained one stuffed skunk—plush, not a taxidermy
special, one card which read “Happy Stinkin’ Valentine’s Day!,” and one poem
(which has since been revised). Awwww.
How’s that for Mr. Unromantic?
For those who care, or are curious, here’s the poem in
its most recent version.
“Portal to Your Soul”
Reposing on the gentle bank,
I
gaze into
your soul’s portal:
two hazel pools
where I can skip glances
across the glistening surface
or flirt with the smile
hiding and dancing
behind the gray-green
stained-glass—
flecks of brown and gold
and blue floating,
reflecting
the laughter
and life.
But it’s the calm, dark profundity
beneath the shallows
that intrigues me most,
lures me in,
and keeps me captive,
spellbound as a waxless sailor straining
to hear the siren’s song,
longing to
fall in and drown
in your depths.
And in return, I received the most freaking awesome V Day
present ev-er.
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| BACON ROSES! CRAZY DELICIOUS! |
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