My Competitor

Morningside along the wisteria
Enveloped you in a Renoir wash
Rose hues blending yellow-orange
Blue in the shade
Riming your dimples
And for the first time
I grew jealous of light.

The grape arbor held your hand
All the way to the street
You moved in rhythm to
The call of delicate things
The hum of creation
And as your footfall counted time
I despised melody.

A tear coursed your cheek
Turning at the flair of your nostril
Tripping across your lips
Pausing at your chin
To fall on the soft curve
Of your breast
And I became angry with salt.

Night wind lifted your hair
Fluttering it into banners
Of a proud army
Or a jubilant people along castle walls
Each strand not unlike shimmering stars
Drifting down dark rivers
And I hated sight.

All that touches you is my competitor
Every breath of spring
Rustle of petals
The movement of air cooling your temples
Of which I am jealous.

How I long to be the one to
Plant a smile upon your bow-like lips
To make your joy complete.

Everything that pleases you
And brings your heart to sing
I must be.