Fairy Gold

22 April, 2011 at 12:51 (Uncategorized)

“You’ve got a choice,” said the fairy, hands on her hips.

“A choice?” asked the village girl, confused.

The fairy sighed, “It doesn’t actually work the same as in the stories, you know. Wishing is a serious business, and who does it come down to reset karmic scales and balance out all the…” She could see the girl wasn’t listening.
“Never mind. You have a choice, now you say you’re in love with the young Lord.”

The girl nodded and opened her mouth as if to speak, the fairy quickly prevented the inane babbling she’d had to put up with earlier. If she never head another word about the young lord’s blue, blue eyes and his dreamy clothes and goodness knows what else it would be too soon.
“Your choice is this,” she said quickly. “You can either have a summer with him, in love as passionate and intense as it’s ever been for anyone which will die as soon as autumn comes. Or you will have to work to be noticed by him for seven years at the end of which time he will marry you and you will be together until the end of always.”

The girl blinked.
“I can have him now or forever?” she asked.

“Yes.” said the fairy.

“I want him now.”

The fairy hid an inward smile, humans, so concerned with what was in front of them that they never thought about things like eternal happiness.
She waved her wand.

“There you go.”

“Really?”

The fairy nodded and the girl turned and ran back to the village.

Snorting, the fairy vanished.

***

Many, many years later…

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His Clothes?

16 April, 2011 at 17:58 (Uncategorized)

Let me leave the room, I’m feeling slightly sick,
His clothes?
Of all the things he’s done wrong, his clothes are what you pick?
A conversation where we, put the world to rights,
spoke of all the ways that being ‘othered’
gave us such great insight.
Whether we were gay or straight, whether we were nerds or not,
we knew what it was like
When the ever present ‘they’ turned on us and said;
“Your hairs not right, your clothes don’t fit,
we just wish that you were dead.”
And after that conversation, when we said,
it makes us better than they will ever be,
we talked about him.
The wrongs we could have listed, legitimately,
were ignored for,
“His hairs not right, his clothes don’t fit,”
I forget…did we wish that he was dead?
Let me leave the room, I’m feeling slightly sick,
Of all the things…let me just forget what it was we said.

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13 April, 2011 at 16:06 (Uncategorized)

There are days, some more than others,
When it rolls across me like a wave,
Just what we lost.
Tried so hard and had to give it up
because life is a choice
Crippling you each moment
with the touch you haven’t felt in years
and the dreams are all you have
until they disappear.
There are days, some more than others,
when it rolls across me like a wave,
and I am bent double with
what it cost me
to stick to my terms and still endure.

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Reflections

6 April, 2011 at 14:54 (Uncategorized)

I like his last girlfriend
The one who was watching
the last time that his lips kissed mine
and I thought of you.

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6 April, 2011 at 11:46 (Uncategorized)

I heard that you found it with her
Just as he found it
and I found
nothing much at one am
as she crawled across your nerves
and mine
electrifying my skin
as her lips brushed across
yours.
At eleven o’clock I called you sir
and shivered inside
as you
gentlemanly ignored
the warmth of my words
and she
kissed the very side of my mouth
without meaning.
I heard that he found it with you
as you sat
two pints across
and that meaningful look
between men
that a bar and foaming tankard
could never quite
be
as she
and she
retreat to where
I can watch
silently at four am
unable to sleep
nerves electrified in the soft darkness
of a story I can’t seem to tell.

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