Once upon a time,
It starts.
To begin it not
Acceptance since—
It is as it has always been.
Love and loss,
Desire and lust,
Sex and sin,
Pain and pleasure
Twisted and braided into rope
To bind our souls
Struggling against the rope
To escape such exquisite pain,
Yet seeking
To find within such passionate pleasure,
A relief to modern existence.
All too willing
To believe anything told–
From fairytales to lies,
Finding comfort
In a fool’s belief
Of such romantic notions
To ignore photos displayed
Of wine and treats arranged in twos,
A photo of the same card given,
Wishes of happiness in the margins.
It is here that words told
And appearances do not mesh.
Make a choice of what is true
And believe in faith of carnival games.
So one can curl against
Such soft warm skin
As if it contained a potion
To wash away the stain
Of sin and bring the happy ending.