Your Version of Destiny

You always loved your Tarot Cards,

So by the summer moonlight we would light your incense

As we sat Indian-style on a field

And you would smile your crooked smile

And shuffle your deck.

In four piles you would tell me my past,

My future, my present desires, and my fears-

While I feigned sincere attention

But on the inside rolled my eyes,

Amused by the seriousness beaming

From the furrows in your brow.

Destiny began when you drew "The Lovers" card

From the top of the "future" pile

And told me that "Tarot never lies…"

And you went on to tell me,

As you brushed my hair back with your fingers,

How on LSD trips you saw the color of my soul

And swallowed it whole

To keep me with you forever

I could only keep quiet,

Keep pulling the grassroots from the field

Making my own new piles next to your cards.

Next you looked up the meanings of our names

And found that yours meant "devoted follower of Demeter,"

While mine meant "Fertility Goddess: Demeter."

So your green almond eyes lit up with a fiery passion,

(And the reflection of the stars)

Fruitlessly searching mine for its match,

But it died down anyway as the sun came up.

And I gathered my grass piles as you shuffled your Tarot,

And finally we waved from opposite ends of the field

Saying our last goodbyes to your version of destiny.