Where Orchids Dream
I was a vibrant vanda thriving
in a wondrous place ~where orchids dream~
and you were a wandering gardener.
Each day you came around
persistent as a bee
murmuring flattering words to me
until at last . . .
you decided to pluck me up.
No longer was I simply captured
by your gaze.
My precious petals then lay open
in your hands.
You could feel my heartbeat
for we became as one,
and ~trapped in your pulse~
I could read the poetry that palpitated
inside your strange but fertile mind.
Mesmerized was I, yet I also knew
I tantalized you.
For a time, our story was not that of
garden variety.
You were my sun, but what was I to you?
Many were the other exotic flowers
of your fantasies.
Caressed and kissed by you,
I was at first in bliss
but passion is ephemeral,
and what you took for love was something
that I grew to see as something else and
overbearing -
later on . . . even as perverse.
As you pressed my pretty petals to you,
my fragrant essence you were
snuffing…. OUT
No longer did I even want to know you.
Freed from you now,
I’m restored to normalcy,
a part of me aware that
~I am the asylum of your ache~
even today.
But ~I taste your truth~ of toxicity
a nasty reality when laid bare
and which at long last
I SPAT OUT
you can have your putrid poems.
They are now
for me
~verses in ash~
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