Dulcet of Time by Soeun Lee

I’ve always believed that,                     counting as sheep jump over a rickety wooden fence—
             lining up again and again to see a never ending                      loop of movement for the
enjoyment
                         of the owner of the thin bed sheets     that melt into pure silver the moment
             it touches the thick stems of the poison ivy         that peeks into narrow slivers of wood.
the ivy encrusting the sweet   sweet motion of your eyelashes, fluttering helplessly,
             just like the little butterfly in your garden                       that I saw last week, trapped in a
                         dulcet of a dream. the gold spots on its wings reminded me of            the golden
honey that you would offer
during tea time every wednesday, as a                         gesture of care. as if the honey made the
bitter
             tea any sweeter—it didn’t. but I still remember                         the antique china that you
offered
                           every time I visited. I shattered one on the floor,                       the tiny pieces
             of glass escaping me every single time                         I tried to pick it up between my
fingers.
panic swept through me as I rushed to clean what was already                     broken. maybe then I
should’ve
             known that you were already broken—broken                         inside. as your heart turned
into ashes,
                           unable to invite me to the humble tea time dining         that we enjoyed, oh,
ostensibly         help me into your life. let me see          how much I have destroyed you. how much
I tried to change our lives. how many times I have        failed. how many memories I have wasted in
             vain, wishing that we could change. carrying                the hopes that I will have succeeded
                           one day. that day came during the      thirty-seventh tea time we had together.
when
             I finally succeeded in breaking you.   the sweet sound of victory tingling my ears as the
china shattered on the floor for the    thirty-seventh time that week. your obsession, your
addiction—
             it reached the best of us. it truly broke us. now                         as I stand before you, on the
bed
                           snoring softly, as if you were still alive, I                       wonder why—wonder why
you’re still breathing. haven’t I tried                 my absolute best already? haven’t I invested
countless
              hours just listening—listening to you fret about                       me? fret about my power?
haven’t
                           you said it yourself? that the dulcet of myself was too loud to ignore?
oh
then, I simply listened. knowing that you were right that I was bound to strike sooner or later—
              how chilling it is to hear the serenity of                                    yourself. so how can you still
be
                           snoring when you sleep.                      if you’re snoring, I have no choice but to
believe that you’re still alive. that you’re still counting the endless line of                            sheep
that I,
              haven’t gotten to you at all in the                  quiet seconds of dawn.
               where did your love for me go?        I remember when you wanted
me to
run to you. you wanted me to come as                        quickly as I could, helping you get on that
roller coaster
               you were too short at first.                             didn’t I help you? You got taller.

                                                                                             How dare you betray me
                                                                                             like that—now that I’m coming to
you,
you try to resist. you try to swat me away,                 claiming that you have people you love in
your
               past. but tell me, didn’t                      I give everything to you when you wanted
me there? it should be
                          time for my turn. we made a deal the moment you came                                into
this world.
and now you’re still breathing.                                       ignoring my urges to leave with me. to come
with me. I
             should’ve known that you would want to stay. that’s                           what they all say at
the end. I
                          guess I’ll just get ready for my next tea party with you dear, for you can never
escape the sweet   sweet sound of time flying           right next to you—making you wonder if
you’re
             the one left behind,
                                        the one too far ahead,
                                                     or the one onboard.