THE ENTANGLEMENT A VALENTINE

This holiday (for many) is the single most destructive bone marrow crushing day on the calendar; and it is coined a celebration of love?

That idea is twisted.
The expectations are high and disappointment brings us low. It is a day of, “Will he, will she, simply follow through”? And the overly dramatized letdown rears its nasty little head -
Oh that fairy tale usually doesn’t end well.

…..and the velvet rose still has thorns.

Quietly awaiting
for a tiny gesture of affection
wrapped in red.
Red, the color of love
the color of blood,
the color anger
and the velvet petal rose still has thorns.

Once upon a time
glistening objects of adoration
were seen through
the heart,
not a dollar value
not ice,
not a card
with sticky words draped in script

The gentleness
of a ribbon-wrapped token
is a lie,
is alive,
is the keeper of commitment
and the velvet petal rose still has thorns

To take our emotion
and compact it into a single moment,
a single hour
a single day
is too explosive
too twisted
too much
empty
void

This so-called day of “love” rips the dignity out of our soul.
An unsanctioned devotion - we don’t need approval or decree. We can actually have love everyday. A love without pink ribbons attached to a make-believe heartache when we retell love lost over the forgotten ritual.
Leave that ritual alone for the world that lives inside their box.

We don’t need to be a fool for ceremony.

…the velvet petal rose still has thorns. (dl)