Ambassador

prologue.

someone else's voice
speaking the words of my heart
this momentary mirror

is it destiny
or accident

1.
A king, questing, came to a castle.
He hesitated, holding a hand
over scars scored in sieges
and ripped during routes.
He proffered his poet to probe
the defenses and to divine if destiny
was written on the walls.
The bard bawled out ballads bellow at the base
and awaited an answer from anyone above.

2.
inked lines form
Rorschach tests
ink reflecting my own past
like light on the mirrors of a telescope

like Narcissus I see myself
in every blotch of light
that took so long to travel back.
is it because i am there
or because i want to be
as the light hits the ink does
it spell out "this is for you"

or form the shape of an ink spill
I will only reach for it with metaphor
just to be safe,
to buffer the heat of the stars

3.
I tried to grow a cafe
but, sneakily, it grew into a temple.
do i drink tea and never pray,
pretend the windows aren't glowing colors
and the pillars don't hold up the sky?
does drinking tea and chatting about proust
ever turn a temple back into a cafe?
no

epilogue.

a voice in a cage
two sets of lips
sip on the lip of a tea cup
against the softness that filled the air
with warmth and itself
being held by holding
the king of hearts: "my king's heart throbs at the cards you put down"