Ashke
Bluelighter
This is a poem I wrote back in high school when I was all conflicted with gender issues and being bisexual. It made the centerfold of our annual literary magazine and was all controversial and stuff.. Anyway, enjoy.
Kassy
You always played the princess.
Flaxen hair spilled from where it had been pinned up, framing your face in delicate wisps. The flower in your hair was one I'd filched from a neighbor's garden.
You were the princess with a dainty curtsy to match my awkward bow. Barefoot in summer grass, we could dream anything together.
I took the role of the knight, the knave, the dashing pirate captain, or the wandering adventurer. There were no boys on our street and someone had to fill the part.
Who ever heard of a story with two princesses, anyway?
And when your family moved to a different neighborhood, it stung me. We were meant to grow up together. At school I'd see you and we'd talk, the both of us painfully aware that each year we grew more distant.
You grew up lovely, snagging the interest of every scurvy rogue for miles around. Me, I felt I hadn't changed. I was still lanky and bold, looking as though I'd rather be barefoot in summer grass.
Now I linger near the makeshift refreshment stands where teacher chaperons smile zealously, guarding kegs of punch and watery lemonade from the inevitable spike. A bitter lump rises in my throat just looking at him, this blue-eyed scoundrel who leads you across the gym floor.
You've mistaken him for a prince.
Need this knight of so long ago take up her sword and rescue you, Princess Kassy? I would, you know. I would if you'd only bid it.
But as I see you return his loving smile, the echoes of past fairy tales slip away. In quiet retreat I shuffle towards the door, wincing at the pinch of my too-tight heels.
Who ever heard of a story with two princesses, anyway?
~*~ Ashke ~*~
[This message has been edited by Ashke (edited 05 June 2000).]
Kassy
You always played the princess.
Flaxen hair spilled from where it had been pinned up, framing your face in delicate wisps. The flower in your hair was one I'd filched from a neighbor's garden.
You were the princess with a dainty curtsy to match my awkward bow. Barefoot in summer grass, we could dream anything together.
I took the role of the knight, the knave, the dashing pirate captain, or the wandering adventurer. There were no boys on our street and someone had to fill the part.
Who ever heard of a story with two princesses, anyway?
And when your family moved to a different neighborhood, it stung me. We were meant to grow up together. At school I'd see you and we'd talk, the both of us painfully aware that each year we grew more distant.
You grew up lovely, snagging the interest of every scurvy rogue for miles around. Me, I felt I hadn't changed. I was still lanky and bold, looking as though I'd rather be barefoot in summer grass.
Now I linger near the makeshift refreshment stands where teacher chaperons smile zealously, guarding kegs of punch and watery lemonade from the inevitable spike. A bitter lump rises in my throat just looking at him, this blue-eyed scoundrel who leads you across the gym floor.
You've mistaken him for a prince.
Need this knight of so long ago take up her sword and rescue you, Princess Kassy? I would, you know. I would if you'd only bid it.
But as I see you return his loving smile, the echoes of past fairy tales slip away. In quiet retreat I shuffle towards the door, wincing at the pinch of my too-tight heels.
Who ever heard of a story with two princesses, anyway?
~*~ Ashke ~*~
[This message has been edited by Ashke (edited 05 June 2000).]
, Karen.
