Have we stepped out of Stepford?
Too late to go back?
Since I'm the pillar of a carousel
and you are all my wild horses,
our love the golden ring
holding us?
Do I know fifty shades of way-too-much
to then close it, and place it in the other book's jacket?
Or behind Happy-ever-after Castle
does the moat turn to gold coins
your old beat up car into white unicorn
and you and I swim together
into a rainbow?
Am I to believe this is what happiness looks like?
If you ask me- I've never been happier.
The linchpin of these lies holds together
in a complicated fashion;
once false move,
this bridge goes London south
and
the version of this story where an ellipsis replaces real life
leaves a lot to the imagination.
Do I rename the town?
Pretend to see unicorns in some fairy distance
and let my horses drown?
replace my free ring for the other?
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