The Perilous Heart
We do not speak
—anymore—
of the dreams and schemes we planned
before we knew
trouble.
(And our troubles are not the same.)
We digressed idly in guileless youth;
now we diverge on separate paths,
believing in struggle, waving our flags
—alone! I am alone! do not come to help!—
as proof of our bravery.
(You are not she who needs a friend.
I am not her, the indebted one.)
But I knew you when you were
a spark of magic,
a wisp of light,
an endless possibility,
when you wanted everything for me
and I asked you to be wise,
when I wanted everything for you
and you asked me to be free.
(We trusted each other.)
Now we sail our ships
in the currents of a stranger’s whim.
I see your banner,
you see mine.
We are in the same treacherous depths,
the same boiling sea.
(We cannot speak across the waters, dear, nor scream against the wind.)
Yet you are there,
I am here, and
—somehow—
that is enough, together.
When distance keeps us apart,
we remain sisters of the perilous heart.
~A. Dupree
One Second
That days extended would be fair,
Golden sunshine not in haste;
Yet one year is one dark hour,
An eon a minute of waste.
This grand bargain of time,
Inescapable, for all are Mortal,
Calls on breath only to seek
To live. One second—
(Anna Dupree is a fictional character. These poems were published in Vasher, Sandra. Sisters of the Perilous Heart, Mortal Heritance Book One. Mortal Ink Press, 2020.)