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| Frustration by Rebekah Griffin Greene, ca.1994 And so he left, not knowing, not caring how she felt. Return to first Love... What did she think? Knights and roses and wobbly knees are indeed lovely visions, smisions, pisions-- temporary chimaera to distract her from her MISSION Why is it always easier to pretend he can make her full? Man could not satiate the hunger that gnaws at her soul, the white-hot flame of passion that claws and tears, stretching, yearning to burst and shout to all that would listen LISTEN! Do you have ears but cannot hear? Tienes orejas pero no puedes oir? DO YOU KNOW LOVE? Not him, she only pretends it's he--I mean real, tangible, FOREVER eternity is a long time to be alone... Desert, dessert, sweet sand is what she chokes on day in and day out Where is the water? Pour silvery, cool streams of life down her throat to quench the fiery soul. Love says to submit--submission will bring her joy, Love says. Yes, she knows this. Her head tells her he will never know, never see, never really care. Why does she bother? Look: the isle of understanding, yes, that rock with a palm tree bending its neck low in submission, almost touching the water, yearning for the SALT of the sea, but never tasting it. Have salt in yourselves, Love says. Is variety like cinnamon or curry? Just one, just one, NO Love says warmly, cutting into her heart. Why can't she rebel? Truth speaks, head knowledge must always win, But the looking glass leaves shards in the aorta. |