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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
…Is not a pretending sort of love.
© 2013 Genevieve Dewey, All Rights Reserved