The Child Bride From Tulip

Written by Jack Andrew Cribb

This piece is from my first portfolio OUTLANDISHand it details the relationship between a father and his daughter.

Her love for you is nitro, you know?

Hello sweet little dreamer, pull me close,
entangle me in ivy, lay me on a
bed of starfish. From that first
spark of light child, I knew it
was you, little lifeline, daydreaming
me back
into existence.

All this is, is pink and orange cumulus
and lenticular, buoying me up, my
molecules treasured in temporality, space
is arching, bronzed, shining. I taste
sugar again. You are cherry blossoms in
full bloom, little dreamer. Sweet little dreamer.

Little tulip wanderer, golden-edged forgotten girl,
courageous spellcaster, permeating my aching head,
holding me close. Your small hand
travelled up my bedtime torso, the sun
stared like a rare propeller, and
sugarboy awoke.

I was heartsick, like a sad puppydog,
headsick as a deepwater lord, but
now I’ve had a little bit of brainwash,
a formula of orange and pink, the
wisdom of an ancient goddess from someone
so young, an alchemist gifting amber glow.
I didn’t believe you could feel this much before. I
am a mortal, and a father before that.

When she smiles I smile. I’ll remember that.
the blossom may fade some days, that is
the nature of life. The orangepink is
the colour of her soul, the colour of
sunrise cresting a mountaintop, flourishing
in the meadows, providing light for the whole year.

She holds my hand, directs me to a door,
the walls the same orangepink as she, filled
with her fire.


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