Yes, I remember. You ran into my tent, like a wild cat; begging me to go along with you; to plead with your father and your mother.
To allow you tie the knots with Sarah. You dreamt all night about her while asleep; talked all day about her while awake; you called her your treasure, your precious, you said she was beyond measure and she gave you much pleasure. You could lay your life in exchange of her peace. Your favorite song – Many there are in Jerusalem but none compares to my Sarah.
But my friend, I wonder much. Why? Your words, ten years old have long been buried. They were dead in year three and buried in year five. I have seen another colour of skirt walk out of your room. You denied it in the third year but kissed her in front of Sarah’s attention in the fifth year. Your gentle voice gradually changed to capitals; she trembles at every sound that comes out of your mouth. You wheeled her to the clinic in panic before. I asked why and you said “she coughed” – One cough. Now she’s bleeding! But you whistle across the room carrying along smoke from a cigar. What happened to your treasure, your precious? Your home of splendor has crumbled into a box of cold air where dinner is served and breakfast is made.
Those days are gone when your mouth lived inside mine. We would mind not the children giggling at the sight of us. My mouth suddenly became bitter to your taste. Then you gathered me together and spat me out of you. Days you’d never eat until my voice announces “Dinner is ready” and you’d feed me first before you guarded a spoon into your mouth. Now you’d eat a hundred times a day not realizing I had been fasting a hundred days at a time. The heart shape of rose flower you decorated on my pillow on occasions… They have been replaced with water from tear glands. More than my eyes, my heart is heavy. Once a habitation of joy and peace: days you woke me up with tickles around my waist. But onetime, grief plunged his claws into my legs, climbed up my skirt and has now taken hold of my tender heart.
Your promises have vanished like the tale of tortoise. Like smoke in the air, I could not gather them before they disappeared in front of my eyes. Those words made me drop my sewing needle and I lived continually in the kitchen blowing cooking fire. Please show compassion; look on my bleeding knees. They ask for a restore of the dim light of mercy inside you. Look on me and the plea of my tears. Please. I beg.
Lady! Oh stranger! Another has taken your place; another lives in your space. I was only a boy of naivety when I ran down the aisle with you; my judgments were hasty because I found your tongue tasty. I refused the counsel of my heart, to wait for the rain. I bath myself in the dew of the morning before noon welcomed me a heavy shower. I did not wait for my own bone, for the flesh hewn from mine. I ran ahead and kissed you on the altar. I’d have been long gone but for the vow we made that day. To keep my conscience pure before God I stay but my heart lives in another’s nest.
How cruel art thou. O emotions! You bind a maid with him today; you bring a virgin tomorrow with an excuse, and then you recommend a damsel with apologies. You sit in the corner and laugh them all to scorn leaving bitterness, envy, jealousy, hate and murder behind. If thou art the ruler of all hearts how reckless shall the world be!