Goodbye Valentine

Once I was crumpled, origami shortened into
twisted shapes.

Underlying
snapped wingspans, handwritten
plans to run away
together were
a rhetoric I don’t remember
how to replicate.

They required folds that would never be consoled going back to mediocrity, a passive animosity for odds. I didn’t connect the dots then, that one crease could be so thoughtlessly compared to another as we crossed each other crooked as paper bookends.

Without a cushion between our falls
(of you into madness and
me into
dissent), there’s no
parachute in its painless
stead.

So if these words go unread as
your decades unravel;
if those paper birds
are butchered in battles of
the elements;

if the ink they
kept shackled to
undisturbed love notes grows
too old to outlive
the sentence,

then know it
likely spent
the years between
likening
tears it let run to
a symptom of
truth.

That faded and bent,
there’ll always be a skeleton of
what we were; outstretched
arms of archaic
adverbs no
stranger could
grasp.

Goodbye, my sweet
Valentine:
until next we meet

at last.

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7 thoughts on “Goodbye Valentine

  1. a relationship is very much like an origami concept, folded into construction of what one dares it to become, and carefully creased into years of tears…or smiles…if the working hands are able to keep the folds reaching each other, as one single square of paper remains faithful to itself, devotedly aligning into its own angles.

    however, there is always hope for a mangled origami effort as the skeleton of itself, one tattered piece of paper remains, with whom one can make another effort at folding it correctly, the second time around…or…at last.

    Like

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