Everything Is Always Never Perfect

Everything Is Always Never Perfect

I woke up in the morning sun
Felt its wholesome yellowish warmth
Track paths of light across the duvet-
Something dripped onto my crumpled pillow.
I don’t know what I’d dreamed. My cheek was bleeding.

My first love was the sweetest friend,
Slipped me notes under the table, poked me with a paintbrush,
Smiled awkwardly, delightedly, at my easy blushes.
That day on the sun-warmed grass, shared sweets and souls-
And after the long summer break he didn’t want to know.

Prom. A time to throw off my timid persona,
Blossom, bloom into a woman of lingering gaze
Aware of her perfumed charms. The whole room stared-
New-found grace; nipped-in waist, tumbled hair, pearls.
Laughter- behind me a girl in identical dress.
(“It still looks better on you!” they said.)

My mother always said
We should count our blessings,
And I was lucky to have the sun, and a friend, and a prom
And countless other things I took for granted.
But while I smiled my throat was tight,
Wished wordlessly, fervently
For a really, completely perfect day
Leaving nothing to regret, or to grieve.

Last May my foreign lover came to stay.
Awkward glances, misunderstandings, shivery hand-holdings.
Parents disapproving. As always
They did know best- summer romance
Fell apart. But through the searing pain
I dried my eyes, smiled. Because I’d realised:
Our life here is not meant to be perfect,
We are meant to pick out, divine our own way,
Face challenges, disappointments bravely
As new opportunities fall our way
Like pin-prick summertime stars.

In silence we watched them that evening, and smiled-
For they are the one thing that’s perfect.