Those were our halcyon days, my dear.
Though we did not know it,
Could not know it.
You stare at the camera, at me
Capturing you in your prime,
With the pantomimists in the background—
Gilbert & Sullivan at Lincoln Center
Via Les Enfants du Paradis—a bevy of Pierrots
With their pursed lips, mocking us, portraying splendor.
We dined on love, fresh as could be,
Ordered by our hungry souls,
Confused by the sequence of events,
Stuck, if you will. My bisexuality, like an archipelago …
Traipsed upon, always on the table, compromised,
And up for discussion, bid upon,
The-all-or-nothing-game that could never be.
Thinking our time together was limited.
Though in reality, it truly, truly wasn’t.
We stepped out, on a limb, for a while.
Played house quixotically, on and off,
Again and again and again.
Our halcyon days were marvelous,
Lived out fully—if truncated.
How society offends, robs you blind, even to this day …
bymax7 