Title: Pegasus
Artist:
Jacopo de'BarbariThe sculptured privet, unicorn delight.
Its moonlit shadow dances at night.
Swift footsteps that pass it, nervously pause.
As usual you have an undercurrent cause.
It seems to have a gentle life of its own.
The cyclone of your emotions spin alone.
I sense it wants to turn its trimmed head.
As its shadow moves, to fill with dread.
You dig its frame with long fingers.
I feel each moment dawdles and lingers.
A signature walk that reminds me.
That this is how far behind, I could be.
A better world for your presence, perhaps not.
In a trap, or vice, I could be deviously caught.
I take two steps back, tripping lightly.
Feeling the stars icy light shine brightly.
The unicorn privet seems to move brusquely.
Your fingers toying, reach for mine, teasingly.
Your plans ahead are well laid by you.
Even as revelations of your lies are true.
We smile and agree to meet again.
Unlocking the hearts binding chain.
The marble bench seems invitingly cool.
Here we are in a private polemic duel.
Side by side, the unwatched time slips by.
I listen for your tone to change, as you lie.
Taking small sips from a shared tea-flask.
The long awaited breakup, becomes a task.
The earlier picnic seems so long ago.
Even now I wax nostalgic, aglow.
Are those really your thoughts I wonder.
As layers of ideas, you submerged under.
The excitement is delayed by my question.
You snarl at any retrospective suggestion.
The unicorn privet seems to sweat moisture.
Any flashbacks are rejected you ensure.
Your eyes, metallic bronze, shining bright.
As you pretend you care and me, excite.
Even as you throw away the well-used flask.
I know you are pulling me and dare to ask.
There are no footsteps even into our past.
I try to recall when like this we were last.
Picnics always leave me feeling exhilarated.
Baited, I wonder what you have left unstated.
I had hoped for pleasure, you would have loved.
Yet memories, each punch, soft slap gloved.
Do I fit the future horizon you view?
The colours that faded, I once knew.
The laughter in your voice is subtle, delayed.
With each tense, smile conveyed.
I wonder when your words first calloused.
Remembering such times, seasons sped.
Controlled, infallible or are there armour chinks?
As each month, hand holding, partner unlinks.
I see the privet hedges hide broken splinters.
That cut no deeper than those harsh winters.
Then almost too soon there is thunder.
Followed by lightening, eardrums rupture.
Rapturous sounds, which quicken our moves.
As rain beats down, with the rhythm of hooves.
We hold hands: quickly look around us.
Then losing trust, to privately cuss.
Your eyes are impenetrable as you hide inside.
Colliding instincts that hooked deeply, belied.
Which path back out of the complex maze?
Words and action in contradiction betrays.
The seconds linger as you forge a way out.
Though you led us here, without redoubt.
Looking at your profile I see more than before.
I realise time is too short, I don't care anymore.
Is adoration always blinded in loves' game?
When love commands; passions' kinder, aflame.
Each turn feels the same to return inwards.
As if elastic strings pull at the hearts' chords.
Then outwards, left, now right, green hedge.
chasing shadows, green and verdant sedge.
Darker at times into murkier end walls.
Like hotel rooms that loneliness recalls.
Retreating or advancing, the journey passes.
Your vantage ground, even hope surpasses.
Slipping once, on wet leaves I feel rain drops.
Secret ambushes, your promises are props.
The thunder is closer, so is the unicorn.
A glint from its eyes, bounces to its horn.
Exasperated, I see your face tense jaw-line.
Even a statue exhibits more by design.
The unicorn seems darker, or is it the clouds.
As wispy mist surrounds, like ghostly shrouds.
I have scratched my wrist taking sharp angles.
Blood beads form rings like ruby bangles.
You hurry, sometimes taking my hand.
Temporarily there is between us a strand.
Sweat beads form like silver tattoo on your brow.
Yet I know that we loosen and disavow.
Your shirt tears, now the muddy path spatters.
In your eyes, the trauma of hope shatters.
I liked watching your muscles, masculinity.
With such adoration I discovered an affinity.
The instant love stopped, and then winter came.
In each area of imputation, settled blame.
Now I struggle to keep pace, you speed ahead.
It seemed you always found escape and sped.
I call out and you pause, irritated at being lost.
The saving grace of politeness can exhaust.
I smile; the cuts and bruises are worth this.
For a second, smiles, then you softly reminisce.
You march ahead faster than I can follow.
Our past adventure seems contritely hollow.
Then the moment your cruelty comes to mind.
Offset feelings, though ruefully inclined.
The rain seems to spend forever in one place.
There is no comfort in a regretful chase.
The mist covers our tracks around our ankles.
Even a smile, remorsefully rankles.
Eventually, I stop, and hear you swear ahead.
Catching my breath, I feel apprehensive dread.
The unicorn finds you amusing perhaps.
It seems to stage, its’ elegant traps.
I look up, to find a foothold in the privet.
Sorrow and apologies no longer beget.
Was this weakness always there in you?
Such contemplation and questioning ensue.
The chilling damp air weakens my resolve.
Maybe, your disengagement will absolve.
The sharp freshly shorn branches are harsh.
Beneath us, becomes a watery marsh.
To release a lover concertedly with grace.
Sometime, gently, our life we retrace.
Tenderness was lost in its own confused haze.
Friend or enemy, each side of a fire would blaze.
I push into the brush and climb a little way up.
And see my lipstick, lip-stain an empty cup.
You call out, and I reply softly, silently.
Eventually, those we love perish absently.
There is no colour in the rain that starts to fall.
Suited you seem, a moving column, of grey pall.
Is this what happens, if love is a passing whim?
All lightness, and brightness, seems to dim.
Lightening seems to touch the unicorn's horn.
When I point this out you laugh and scorn.
For a second everything is beige gold.
I hesitate and then feel extolled and bold.
I climb and the pain seems dead, now remote.
I recall discovering the revealing note.
For a moment imagine I'm part unicorn.
Must we always torment, when lovelorn?
There seems a remoteness; in even your look.
Whilst deep beneath us the undergrowth shook.
I thought you could be generous and kinder.
If lovers are keepers; who is the finder?
The air feels cooler, I lie on my coat.
No longer to finding a pledge to devote.
To see you caught some way off, I smile.
Wasn't it you, who had become hostile.
Your repertoire of soundings is musical.
Tutelage: persuasively instructional.
I think to call out, but you don't think of me.
Although I hear you, I strain my eyes to see.
Then I say nothing, you're not alone at all.
Whatever may or may not sadly befall.
Could you have cared that all along, I knew.
The unicorn darkens, actually, it is you.
Copyright©Xsapph
