[Explaining Myself] Puppy Love // ben

'Cut the red', I said.
We were in love as it slowly disappeared into the periwinkle blue sky.
Did they sprinkle the plum soda with butterfly dust, I thought.

I gave no mind to the sand inside my guitar and the fit of the wrong-sized shirt.
But when friends, foes and strangers alike gave us votes of no-confidence,
What merely lasted three months felt like a testament to Einstein's work on relativity.

Friends of mom said they'd keep their lips pursed, but surely not enough for a whisper to escape.
The look mom gave, when she found out, plunged a stake onto the already fragile heart.
We went to sleep in love and awoke to realise our indifferences.

Was the fragility of mom's pride as significant as my own capacity to discover love?
Was I doing injustice to my own miscegenous grandparents?
Was what we had, as they say, puppy love?