A man took a taxi to the fortune teller under
a luminous moon. He was searching for someone or
something to recover his love life. He was tired of the
one man show. He decided the time had come to find
his pink diamond, his peach parfait, someone to share a
heartbeat with, and tie his ship up at her pearl harbor.
He strutted up to the door, the night was ferrari black.
She hurried him in the house, her red, sequin slippers
scurrying like racing rubies. She stated her name
and said she didn't have much time. The man cut to the
chase, said he was tired of all the jazz. He said he
was ready to trade his wild thing past for his sterling
silver rose. She immediately responded with a confident
"yes," and said she could feel something great on the horizon.
Setting up Romeo with Juliet was her expertise,
and she could surely get his love life in motion.
She got up swiftly, and excused herself momentarily.
She yelled from behind the wall, "this place is practically a chapel of love."
He was pondering his life in the future when she returned
with a large crystal ball. The ball was truly magical; it
never told a lie. The images in the rose quartz always gave the answer.
Without further delay, the woman began the process.
She rinsed her hands in a bowl of coolwater and cradled
the ball with intense concentration.
There was a blinding flash of fuschia which startled the two.
After regaining their vision, the woman gazed into the ball.
It was still changing, the color settled on blue. The man, confused,
asked "What is it?" She was shocked to concede, "It's me and you."
1 comment:
aaawwww. ok. second red head to score points on the v day poem. nice job craig! like the use of rhyme and the narrative.
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