Of Amaranthine Fondness
Between the lines creasing on their foreheads,
before they tuck themselves into bed,
lies a tender silence
of a twenty-seven-year-old romance
that needs no words for celebration.
Fairy lights draping a dormitory room,
it's midnight but I want you.
You're full of life and this book is dead.
Here we exchange a bisou.
I lie awake listening to a voice
that comforts me.
There is a triumph of innocence
beneath crisp pinafores and wandering hands.
Instead of charting a route towards
an everlasting romance,
they breathe in today's moment,
savouring their palatable desserts
circling within each other's wonderland.
A toddler slouches in his pram,
fiddling with a galactic universe set.
Venus sits in another pram across him.
She notices his single dimple and points.
Mars looks up and catches her shimmering gaze and pink tutu dress.
Metres apart but they're holding the whole universe together with their eyes.
A hushed adieu heard from my bed
as I begin to pack my luggage.
My mother, my queen,
falls asleep soundly.
Tenderness blankets the edges
of her wrinkled eyes.
Poetry
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July 31,
2020
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1-minute
read
Angelina Marilyn Bok
is a film producer and bedroom poet who finds solace from her anxieties in poetry and cinema. Her writing primarily stems from the themes of familial abnormality, desire and loss. She is currently developing several short and feature films, as well as working towards getting a full collection published.