The Lion And The Unicorn Poem by Rachael Swiss

Real men don't cry
Or write poetry
But you did, and I made you
I stood frozen as an ice sculpture
Some frivolously expensive item kept solid
Hours of labor for the enjoyment of a moment
I watched in horror when you cracked.

My mirror image
So fragile
Thousands of tiny fragments falling from your eyes
Where mine were hard and cold
My reflection grew distorted
Dispersed into my frigid lap
Returning to the womb perhaps
But Narcissus drowned within his pool.

The difference between self-love
And self-loathing
A negligible time span of seven lonely years
Impatiently I wait
How like glass we always were
I took like lightning to the sand
And the hours used to melt
During our time together.

You said we were cursed.

I fought you then but have since grown wise
To our fusion and confusion
And in the piercing
I came to thaw
I warmed to the thought of us
With the softening came the tears
And in my liquid state you sank
Your jagged shards eclipsed
It being dark down there and murky
At the bottom
No longer can I see myself with
Or within you
So cries Alice,
Her white rabbit having fled.