Venus, 2020

There once was a man who gave me a bouquet of red flags.

I loved them like roses, I loved him like fire- so fierce it

Burned me, so fierce it

Covered all his flaws and lit my own, so fierce it engulfed our marriage

When the time was finally right.

And now

When the man holds out his hand

The bouquet is small and humble. It is from the earth and it is pure. He tells me to burn it, and I think I love him. His voice soothes me in reverse

It comes from

The faucet

Where my heart would ache most. His voice whispered when I was scared and alone.

He shows me that paint goes on the paper, on the walls, the floor, but never on the flags. Never on the flags that are not there.

Never on the flags that are not there because I don’t want to see them.

Never covering red with white again in my life. A waste of time, energy, paint.