2am Blackbird

by Grey Bard
Email: fitzrose at email.msn.com

 

He has kissed her. She is crying.

Can he know what he has?

She is sharper than steel, stronger than silk.

When I kissed her, she patted me and said there there.

But he has kissed her and she is crying.

"What you are planning is foolish," she says bitterly, "A result of masculine pride."

He struggles gently out of her arms and brushes off her words.

Fool.

She is more perfect, more deadly than my master, whose ears I wear. She does not speak unwisely.

"I can do this, Babs." He smiles like neon. "Gotta be me, you know it."

There is pain in her eyes. She knows he is wrong.

I am faster. I am quieter.

He will go because he is blind.

"Hey, why are you crying, now?" He touches her face. It gives her pain and joy. "You love, you care, that's what makes you human. No shame there."

Shame? She aches for him as no other.

"If you're going to leave, then do it, Dick." She says in great wisdom. She knows what will not be changed.

They kiss. She sobs once, then leaves.

She will not look back.

He sees her tears, bewildered. "I must be a better kisser than I thought."

He has kissed her. She is crying.

He does not know what he has. He steps out the window.

I will follow and see that he lives.

If she must cry, may it be because he kisses her.

What a lucky fool.

 

 

Grey Bard