Reflection in a Pond

My sometimes friend, a lady slayer I suppose

A man with notches on his gun

A chalk’em-up lover with rope in his bed

Confided in me once

 

He said

I’ve lived them all

Every one of my reality based

Non-paranormal sexual fantasies

 

Of those remaining, my favorite will require

A witch, or at least, witches work

And maybe the selling of a small portion

Of my big blond soul

 

He told me he wished to inhabit

The body of his lover while he loved her

 

I didn’t bother asking if he knew

The story of Narcissus

And I didn’t tell it

This would have spoiled some great and ancient

Secret between Devine powers

And every healing tear that’s ever been

 

But I did say

Knowing your desire you’ll understand

It is only your best interest I have at heart

If I tell you to go fuck yourself

 

Not long after this

In the high lust of spring

He disappeared

 

I found growing from his mattress

A single proud daffodil

And cared for it as I could

When it died, I buried it on a low hill

Next to an old dead river

Under a wooden marker on which I carved:

 

God is a magician

With imperfect speckled doves

Hidden under his tattered coat

And flowers up his sleeve

 

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