02 Aug 2017 – Villanelle
Whenever I was fire, you were rain.
A green shoot, laughing out from sidewalk sins –
your cold winds shrank me back to stone again.
I failed to fill the wombs’ ice-cold demands.
Who says that frost and flame can be best friends?
Whenever I was fire, you were rain,
so I became an ember – in the main –
a clown defusing roadside bombs with grins
as cold winds shrank me back to stone again.
Your love, my love, became my greatest bane.
I loathed this hellhole, locked inside this skin!
I hated being fire to your rain,
so I was lost in seas of fear and pain,
years covered over scars from next of kin.
Those cold winds shrank me back to stone again.
The world does not evolve, no ground is gained.
What once was shameful now the West Wing spins.
Whenever we are fire, they are rain!
They’d gladly turn us back to stone again!