Brother, she said. I fed you your bottle. Give me your soul in exchange.
As if that matters.
As if that changes anything.
No.
You never drank her poison. You spat, then smashed its vial beneath your boot.
She should have followed your example.
You tell me this as we leave its deep woods grave, our son swaddled in your arms, our daughter nursing at my breast. Yellow Xs encircled its infertile soil. Danger, they screamed. Keep out.
You vow, Our children will be warned when old enough to wander.
Old enough to wonder which way lies home and healing.
*****
ICYMI
Cupid may get all the US press in February, but I think love is more than romance. Check out some of these posts about love in its many forms….
HERE’S ANOTHER THING ABOUT LOVE, a true story about roads, cemeteries, and happily-ever-afters.
COME LIVE WITH ME AND BE MY LOVE, an original flash.
THE FIVE MOST ROMANTIC THINGS YOU CAN DO FOR THE WRITER IN YOUR LIFE, my guest post on STORYADAY
Happy Valentine’s Day, and thanks for reading =)
*****
My Name was Supposed to be Elizabeth Ann 