A Castle On Your Fort's Fault
On the precipice of the fort you built,
and then abandoned,
stands this castle another is erecting.
So away with the pain you brought,
welcome the joy my new lover brings.
You defended all that makes love wilt,
you erased the warmth once in my heart, bit by bit,
till you erased everything with the joy you stole,
you left my vases with wilted roses—
the ones you gave when the last world war was fought.
In this castle built by my new lover,
love is watered now by peace of mind;
each room is filled with sweet fragrance
from freshly plucked roses and sunflowers—
it’s as if my garden can never wilt again.
So love thrives best within a castle, not behind a fort;
where pleasure swims like an eel without a boat,
no threat of fired shots begging for a shield.
How do you beg for a rehash of protection
meant for bullets, not for displeasure?
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