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Literary Art


Visual Art



for a brief moment — an angel rested here

Micah Reitan

in
an easter lily dress
she came & sat in the midst
of an eternal field of yawning gray
wall flowers — unaware that this would be another night that
she would be pushed into the corner of the circles
i
wanted so badly for someone ... other than me...
to romance her like Cassanova to Cinderella
i prayed
someday — some way someone — anyone
would
sweep her off her feet
instead of under the dance floor carpet
where she was constantly stepped on
by all those who were doing what
she only dreamt of doing
...time & time again... in the loneliness of her mind
in no sense,
...to me...
it fell like watered down communion wine
cheapening her beauty & grace
while all that time my
words were
(like promises & dams) br ok en
down
to its simplest
(yet — ironically — most difficult) form
sitting
she remembered when
friday nights were better spent
anticipating Saturday morning cartoons
rather than agonizing over friday night punch bowls
once full of romance in decadent school gyms
sitting
i remembered when
every road led to Disneyland
& that it was the face of her identical twin that
i gave
the princess in all of my childhood bedtime stories
that began
"once upon a time..."
as warm as
golden toast
i smiled...
inwardly
dare?
not i in non-fictional situations for foolish & forgotten friends find ways to flock
around & snicker at
the things they simply do not understand
insecurities cleanse me like an april shower
and wash away my window of
opportunity
because i am who i am
she rises from her chair
like christ from the cross & she walks out of the ballroom like jesus upon the sea of galilee
here
in my bed is where
i now listen to her heart change my views
of what beauty
was
is
& will always be
as i dream of holding her as close as the holy ghost does on resurrection sunday
i wished i'd have asked her to waltz with me
i wished
i'd have asked her if i could kiss her simply because besides her imagination
nobody has i wish i would have...
easter
lily dresses rhythmically roll down into sidewalk cracks like tear drops off of black long neck english umbrellas
tragically
all over america
it appears as though
music is having a great time in the mystery of the night
while once pretty perfume bottles that are
cheaper than the words
"i love you"
are sent back
under warranty
for full refunds
&
it is all the same only the places and faces change
they come and they rest
ever so briefly before they realize they are mis-taken
for even the empty weekend chairs in the corner are taken
all are forsaken
unfortunately
for us all
they leave
as quickly
&
as quietly as they came
still
nobody seems to care
but all this time
i knew who it was that sat there
...briefly




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