Soulmate
“surreal world” by Hannah Wool
Soulmate
Delia Vaisey
I was dead last week
until a fresh batch of
maybe-someday-soulmates
came to raise my spirits
in a three-day rush
A petite jester, built like a fairy
She left a virus on my computer
a butterfly clip in my room
simple reminders of pleasure
A sweet, shy soul at a Super Bowl soirée
forced me to bare my stained teeth
to be patient in my flirtation and
girlish in my tepid hope again
A good friend, a true friend
born on Valentine's Day
She makes more sense
than anything has in a while
A girl in the mirror, barely
recognizable, eyes so sunken
Perhaps her protruding hips
were pretty all along.
