From Beth Ronan’s Poetry Compilation “Blurred Lines”

We Could Pretend

By Genevieve Dewey

 

We could pretend we both got lost here

…crossed paths like two strangers.

Strange in body, but not in soul

Certainly not in hearts.

Because ours

Have surely met before.

We could pretend we both found here

…Discovered by the fusion of fate and serendipity.

That heart’s intention had a will of its own

And could see with greater clarity

Than our words and mind.

Because ours

Have never been more blind.

We could pretend we both are free here

…Unburdened by promises and expectation.

Adrift in a sea of peaceful indecision

Where clarity came not from stillness

But a rare moment of chaotic bliss

Because ours

Would not be a placid sort of love.

We could pretend we floated to shore

…kissed by the lapping of the waves.

That our caresses were born from survival

And not an anxious sort of loneliness.

Because ours

Have always been this desperate.

We could pretend that nobody would mind

…betrayed by none and no betrayal in kind

That our love was just more prescient

Than the petty dictates of ephemeral morals.

Because ours

Have atrophied once more.

We could pretend we cared about any of that

…tethered to a society that tells us we should.

But we never were fond of children’s games

Nor too weak or innocent to face reality.

Instead we pretend nothing and willingly suffer

The consequences of our honesty.

Because ours

…Is not a pretending sort of love.

© 2013 Genevieve Dewey, All Rights Reserved