Tuesday, October 1, 2013

Anti-Love Sonnet

by Sara Callor

What is love but that irksome envelope,
enclosing hormones in clandestine ink,
a threnody of lamentation, hope
a hostage to the hoopla and the stink
of pink and purple histrionic act.
Begin with chardonnay and glittered jewels,
end up with writhing white wedding dress pact.
‘Cause even vows become temporal rules
and love becomes a taxidermy pale.
Like Sisyphus, the stone still rolls them back—
tomorrow’s only sweet in fairy tale—
but lachrymose a more likely track.
If love is really what you’re after, then
reality has one less denizen.
Sara Callor is a graduate of the MFA program at Northwest Institute of Literary Arts and is a fiction editor for Soundings Review Literary Magazine.  She is an avid runner and lives in Colorado.

1 comment: