Because he’d have it no other way
—that man she thought she loved—
she went with him into the cosmos
to a temporary station on another world.
the forever sunset of a tangerine sky
strange perfumes from singing trees
flowers delicate as ancient lace
Because she’s lonely, misses home,
he brings her a lifeform for company.
She nurtures it from silky floss
to dazzling wings, whispers baby names.
She says it calls her Mother,
but he only laughs.
fragments of dreams
her children calling
come fly with us
He finds her out wandering
without a mask, talking to herself
or dancing alone among the trees.
She refuses to eat their rations,
doesn’t like to be touched.
So, when his work is done there,
when he is tired of her laments,
and sick of her sickness,
her deformities growing
those ugly wings,
that rasping cry—
he leaves her there to dream,
even into the next dawn
of her beginnings.
Tags: Marge Simon