golden: a sestina

It’s Saturday and the sun teeters over the precipice

enveloping her—my beloved—in warm golden light.

I watch her from the porch, a smile on my lips

as she laughed at a funny scene from her book.

She noticed rather quick, her eyes filled with love

and she tells me to come lay down with her.

—

I still , crystal clear, the night I met her.

It had been a raining as I hung out at the precipice

and she was looking for some stray dog she loved.

As if by fate, the rain had begun to lighten,

and I noticed she was holding my favorite book.

I couldn’t resist the friendly words slipping from my lips.

—

The beautiful girl often wore strawberry red lipstick

matching the red rose necklace that always suited her.

She’d always have in her hands or in her bag a book

whenever she came by to meet me at the precipice

and I would watch the sunset’s golden light

dance on the body I’d soon come to worship and love.

—

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, love

blossomed where self-loathing once lingered on my lips.

And one night, underneath the silver moon’s light,

I took her by the hand and held it tight, leading her

through the darkened forest and up the precipice

as though life was some fairytale book.

—

Then I’m writing proposal speeches behind my book.

My pen glides over the worn page, carried by love

and the memories of our youth at the precipice.

And as I wrote, I can’t tear the smile on my lips,

nor the hand that was resting upon her

sleeping form underneath the dim light.

—

It’s Sunday, we’re standing in amidst candlelights,

I think back to the proposal at the back of my book.

But one look and everything faded into nothing before her.

I can only think of this, of her, and of love.

The words tumbled from my stuttering lips,

And she smiled, saying yes at the precipice.

—

We spend our days at the precipice like in those romance books.

There would be a light pink staining my kiss-swollen lips.

And I’d give up anything to show the love I hold for her.

———

delusions of a girl missing her ex the loml

#PoetryMonth2025

#Week2Prompt1

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