Coronation

a poem by Alo Shome

A string of pearls?
No, no, a modern, independent girl
Won’t feel the need
Of that. And, indeed,
Dear,
It would cost you many a tear!”

“My bone then?”
Was your next stunning question.

“Don’t be mad
And funny, lad!”
And ‘er I could add,
“Take my advice,
Do not make such gruesome sacrifice!”
You played it smart

And had stabbed your heart!

Blood oozed from your body
And trickled in a slow-flowing stream.
It seemed like a dream!
I sighed, “Why, why?”

But you did not die.
For a cactus lives
In its other flowers and thorns
If a part is shorn,
The thorns being its ribs.

Blood-milk dripping from your body,
Looking gaudy, you crowned me
Putting your own parts
Around me!