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You Don't Bring Me Flowers Anymore by Nicole Lauricella-Pack she is a f a d e d star. (repeats what she learned to the sky who dares not listen). the mirror likes to fade and the dark enchantress whispers into his chestnut worlds that lately, the scissors have taken to dancing. he didn't seem to understand the power of this recognition, and continued to run his hands through her star entangled hair. her understanding appeared on the wall as a damaged shadow vanishing (in his spotlight). she was a dream transformed into reality, yet he saw her as a doll with string (for hair) that he could unbraid. one day he gave her a gift, a pretty little jewelry box covered with a delicate floral print of babyφs breath. she took the box and placed her fears inside. which he found one day underneath the dresser. he opened it carelessly (as if it were mail that he was only going to throw away). inside he became mesmerized by the ballerina twirling in musical bliss. he glanced at the fears but dismissed them, he didn't have the time to look at them. (he only had time to add to them). he wrapped the blame around the delicate ballerina. she ceased to float in a seemingly endless path of resurrection. although he loved to watch her turn (dreamlike and fragile), he rather liked her stationary position so that he could feel like he could belong. he closed the box and placed it on top of the dusty dresser (left it there for weeks). he felt it his duty to devote himself to nothingness (for a while) and he ignored the precious box. but one day he felt daring (so that he could claim his specialness) and he finally opened it again. some of the blame had fallen off the ballerina and had mingled with the fears inside. she was timidly turning (slowly for much of the blame was still encasing her) and he was so enraged. she was smiling as hard as she could. she didn't want to disappoint him. she spent so much strength eternally swerving to evolve her foolishness. he closed up the box and felt "i have done my part" now it is all up to the ballerina to find her way out of the darkness. he promised not to lock the box too tightly |
Nicole Lauricella-Pack has previously written "Different", the March, 1997 Snarl! of the Month.
What do you think?
[pennies] [you don't bring me flowers anymore] [her bittersweet revenge]