(1)
Walking by the swimming pool
Clad in a white bathrobe, which,
Resting over the frail shoulders,
Hangs down to the fair knees.
The stilettos: black right, left white.
White image of her robe clad form
Appears black; in the blue.
The memoirs
of the black dressed romance
Haunt him
even as he cherishes them.
The jet tresses bounce a lot
making a mess of themselves.
The crutches let go of her
even as she dives into the pool.
He sees but cannot hear the splash.
The pool exalted, hair floating.
The landlubber's apprehensive instincts
Push him towards the vintage flame
That flame long diminished.
Motions her to crawl
towards the pool's edge.
Out of the water; the pool despondent
Even as the flannel
clings to the subtle form.
The bright silhouette;
Revealing the intact left foot
And the void black stiletto
He laps up the sweet beads
strewn over her brow
and restores to her,
the fallen crutches.
(2)
He stares at the flame
On the rim of the goblet
Holding the scalding glass against his brow
He fumbles with vowels in a hoarse voice.
She hears intently, but cannot comprehend
She is confused and cannot determine
Whether it’s him or herself who is in a trance
Her hand trembles even as she let go of her glass.
He sees the glass falling one piece
In the distance, and sways his head sideways
Inviting the enchantment to take him over
He sleeps for a while and dreams about her.
She takes a walk by the swimming pool
Her toenails polished maroon; A rather darker shade
Her hair hanging down to her coccyx
Her hair hanging down to her coccyx
Shimmering against the white bathrobe.
The crutches very much declare their existence
As he finds himself limping forward
Dependent on them.
She waits for him in the Silhouette of her form
Across the width of the pool.
Desperate to receive him, she stands with arms open wide.
Bathed in desire, he jumps into the pool.
She hears the splash, and the water turns scarlet.
Horror grips her even as she takes off the bathrobe,
And dives into the despondent pool.
(3)
The sound of breaking glass wakes him up
He realizes his sleep and dream lasted
For about a tenth of a second
And with open eyes he sees
The goblet neatly split in half
She picks up the two halves of her favorite glass
Tries some adhesive but the joint doesn’t come out neat
She strikes it on the floor in frustration
Even as the raised arm let go of the crutch
And she falls to loss of coordination.
The crutches once again declare their existence
In their last moment of glory
Even as he rushes towards her
And catches hold of her in his arms
Rendering the other crutch obsolete.
The black stiletto in union with the crutches
Lies in contentment beside the exalted pool
Witnessing the act of pursuance.
Specks of happiness on the white bathrobe
Declare the crutches redundant.
