Apr 20, 2021 | Writing

Lilac Rain and V-Day

by

Lilac Rain and V-Day

by

Two poems by Mia Amore Del Bando

Lilac Rain

Rain fell for the first time in Los Angeles in six months

It embodied the pavements and the foyer of our ground apartment

You always adored the rain

The only complaint you marked on California

Dry seasons and endless sunny days

Your side of the bed was cold

The sheets all fumbled up

A tower of your favorite literature stares at me from your nightstand

Frida Kahlo burns into my brain

The clouds are light grey,

The same color as the blanket you knitted me for Christmas

You admitted the pattern was off and almost trashed it

But you kept it because I love rough drafted work

For a brief moment I imagined the sky was lilac, your favorite color

Almost matching the shade of your hair on Valentine’s Day

Your head emerged in our bathroom sink

Crying because it didn’t go as planned

Our cat snapped me out of the trance

Two pools of emerald blinked at me, wondering where his mom was

“I wish I knew,” I responded to his curious face

Rocked myself out of the safe cocoon of white sheets

The hardwood floors were frozen

I fed Gato and stared at the Christmas card your brother sent us

It hung from the weak Disneyland magnet you bought on our first date

His family all dressed up in an alliance

Stiff smiles and a newborn in his wife’s arms

He was a park ranger from up north

I throw the card in the trash

Along with the novelty souvenir

I miss you, this

hurts

Because our apartment lingers with the scent of fresh rain

And the sky shifted to your favorite color

I cry alone

Because somewhere out there you are wrapped up with a stranger

Ears perked up to hear droplets hit the window

Stirring to get up and make a pot of coffee

For someone who isn’t me


V-Day

He told me over coffee one morning

The clouds were grey cashmere bundles

“Everything isn’t about love, you know.”

My eyes examined his coffee, a muddy puddle in a porcelain cup

His crowded teeth beginning to stain like bikini tan lines

A strip of white but the rest a summer bronze

It’s still winter here in California

The rain gentle, a faint symphony outside

Embellishing small wet kisses on windshields and buildings

The rest of the world encased in a blizzard

Everyone tucked inside their warm homes

He patiently waited for me to comment

I took a square napkin, and shyly reached over

Placed it under the brown ring of his cup

“But wouldn’t it be beautiful?”

“What?” he answered, put off by the question

“If love was all there really is?”

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