Once I met a girl

She had eyes of the palest blue,

And hair of the darkest black

Around the fourth finger of her left hand

She wore a gold band with a sightly jewel

At her side he always was

A sceptic afraid of the unknown

Now, I don’t deny he was a nice man

But he tied sinkers to the open doors of her colourful mind

They slammed shut;

The colour was slowly drained

In her arms she held what she had left

And when they tie that knot

I’m sure she’ll drop it all – if only just to throw her arms around his neck

Oh dear girl, that is not true love

I longed to tell her

But she was a tall girl

Much taller than me

And my advice is not given to those that look down on me

I noticed the potential in her eyes

But I let it pass by

It’s not for me to say

And what business is it of mine

If the fire inside of her dies?

I am but a girl she once looked down on…

What would I know anyway?

~ Bluebell Rizzi


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Almost, Almost

Queer librarian blogs mostly about books

© Felipe Adan Lerma - All Rights Reserved - Blogging at WordPress Since 2011 :)

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