Love...another name for a banana skin (standard:other, 348 words)
Author: Cyrano	Added: Oct 04 2006	Views/Reads: 3675/2	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Love, like bananas can be bought on any market stall, or it come looking for you over heather covered Scottish highlands...it's all the same. Peel it, eat, and discard what's left.

Last night I threw love out the window. Completely done. 

I'm certain she carried satanic distractions anyway. 

You've met her haven't you? Vagabond emotion dressed in red, flirting
with loneliness and desire, kidding you into believing ill luck and 
innocence, when all the time she has disturbing reasons for visiting. 

Beware, okay? I'm telling you straight, she will give you sleepless
nights. 

I remember the morning she arrived, July sunlight spreading across
Scottish highlands, and my idiot, youthful dreams intact and flowering. 
I opened my heart and love walked in, looking as abstract as a girl, a 
monstrous child, and oh, how little she cared. 

I was never in control of the undertaking, dragged from room to room,
and in each found some new glad adventure. She took advantage of my 
weakness, amusing me with lightning wit and thunderous laughter, later 
disgusting me with the stink of morning mouth, blood shot eyes, content 
to lay on semen stains. 

We lived for a while on the beach of what might be. 

She brought the spoils of long walks in misty rain; candy built castles,
and jewelled chains linking stars amid the powdery blackness as we sat 
within the crackle of a rosy fire. Hearts smouldering we ate our 
fortunes and displayed our desires. 

She came, leaving me more a boy than I cared to be. 

That's the thing about love, she'll go away; either you, or she, leaving
a crusty taste in your mouth for steeples and bells that teased you 
with thoughts of forever. 

Priests, fat as fish, marry you but it's an incomplete education. Once
the captain of life only a castaway is left behind, raising sail on the 
distant pond of what might have been. 

When love comes into your life, dressed in red, flirting with needs and
desires, treat her respectfully. Don't rely on fortunes or dreams; keep 
her breath smelling sweet. Don't dawdle beneath clouds, don't lie down 
believing time is on your side, it isn't. 

During the metaphysical voyage of understanding her absence, you learn
there is no understanding. There is only acceptance. 


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