Orphelia Waits – love storm in the Triangle:
Nicotine yellow, brooding, fingers
Scar the sky –
Orphelia waits.
#Metoo, she wrote.
Claiming her spot
At the base
No disgrace
Moving round
Without a sound
She points one finger
Points the blame
Nails polished, bright,
Light blinding
Night-grinding
Comfort giving
Rescue package to his pain
She shifts again.
So, It’s him that’s hurting now.
She’ll lift him,
kiss him,
make him better
‘til overwhelmed he rejects her
Its much too much for him to take.
The he becomes
the perpetrator
Finds some callous ways
to hurt her
Then when she is on her knees
He’s bows,
grand gestures,
Tries to please
And round and round and round they go
Sometimes quickly
Sometimes slow.
In love’s pursuit it seems
A geometric dance of three
Steps forward, three steps back
Until they find the knack to see,
their positions differently.
Then the threat of storm might be
Just that
A threat.
Reality
Will not be half has hard to see
When creator occupies the space once held
By victim
In Place of the tyrant perpetrator
One step round from creator
Sits the challenger to all they are
And once more round they’ll find a coach
To help them as they fast approach
The challenges they must face.
But from THIS place
They’ve freed the victim,
Snuffed the tyrant out
and best of all
They’ve let the rescuer rest.
Hywel 21/10/17
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