nasreen's rib creature

there was a sense of normalcy in the midst of a boring afternoon
i loved the part where we lazily woke from a short slumber and carried on
there was nothing to it, our loved ones were dying still
and no matter what happened next she would’ve been a dead woman anyway
there was rain and then came the peeking sun,
offering the day a gentle kiss on its puffy cheek of soft cloud
don’t be sad, i can fix everything that’s ever been broke now

you had a beautiful fair haired boy that charmed me beyond reason
and i often turned red whenever we crossed paths on the stairway
how does one boy paint the whole entire world the loveliest shade of emerald
then pack up and leave
i always found it cruel to leave, to levitate, to grow a mother out of your own ribs
albeit doable, but still cruel
i heard someone once call him an addict, and i felt my own thoughts turn into my mother’s
i reckon i don’t know much about him either
and truthfully my careless predisposition has often fooled me in the past
into claiming my opinion could even delve beyond the palpable surface of a stranger
so, perhaps i can say this instead, this isn’t about you
this is merely about one thing you’ve done in one moment in time that changed the pace of everything

what am i to make of it?
i was dancing, and dancing often made me stupid, and stupid made me kind
and kindness meant one thing only: there's trouble in town
so i never told my mother about where i’ve been that day
in my nonsensical paranoia, i figured she knew somehow
i felt guilty though, for that evening i found my mother rather stifling
and before i went to bed i wondered what had nasreen’s mom made them for dinner

do you remember the evenings where we would pretend?
i didn’t realize it was pretending we were doing,
i just figured there were days we were happy and others we weren’t
still, i would try to discern the rhyme of it all,
where did the joy come from and could we keep it
could you stay for once?