The Curse of Boredom: An Ode to Paraquat, Mentor to the Lotus

I detected your style from the beginning, yet your frame I did not despise

I gathered your disposition instantly upon meeting your provocative eyes

My instinct was confirmed while witnessing your consumption of motley salves

Oh, what fortitude it took to harness my heart as you imbibed, doing nothing by halves

Your demonstration wore the aroma of emptiness, which awareness you worked relentlessly to numb

The emptiness was relatable, however, the result of your efforts became zero-sum

Uniqueness, confidence and skill you brazenly exuded

So I chose a common path, with reservation, to pretend to be deluded

You seem to possess a covert compulsion to hunt and subdue your prey by wit

While I have a potent proclivity to excavate what is deeply buried, bit-by-bit

You provided organic nourishment, a serendipitous expedition into your mind

Perhaps I supplied secondary fruit whenever your primary entertainment began to unwind

Our time of illusory opulence has come to an end, as you now perceive what I’ve held back from inception

And I, Dear Paraquat, find blatant disregard far too uncouth to permit any ongoing connection

I could have endured the charade so long as I felt, in your company, like an allusive lotus flower

Yet, immediate dispassion ensued when you revealed your true desire for me to submit to base orthodoxy & cower

I now recognize an upside to being starved by my former contract partner for the past twenty years

I’ve honed a deep aversion to neglect and will not offer, to the unappreciative, my tears

You miscalculated, Dear Paraquat, assuming you had more time to pull my strings

My threshold for foolishness has diminished, and a penchant for an adept artist will increase abreast my wings

While our interaction was recessed, I remained loyal to our bond

After reuniting, I was unsure how our temperaments would respond

When I whispered, “I love you,” I truly meant the “you” whom you cannot seem to fathom

The “you” who will not allow himself to be vulnerable merely coveted by a pseudo harem

The beautiful you perhaps went into hiding at the tender age of six

And I look forward to eternal paradise where all human ills will enjoy their fix

I cannot say if instead it was your aim to dissuade my sincere, intrepid energy

Whatever your goal, being different, as we ALL are, is no excuse for disrupting the flow of our synergy

“Carry on, as you were” Dear Paraquat! Our season was but a stint

Meanwhile, the lotus will press toward a lifestyle in which she is appropriately regarded by her Elect flock as Bona Fide Mint!

….and she will offer NO LESS to her companions.

Still, there’s mercy, my forever love. You taught the lotus well.

©

7/1/2017

Crystal Black, as Blackhandmade