Thinking About…Jealousy

I don’t sense envy in me –

But sense jealousy

Given the right (or always wrong) occasion

Why?

The past disloyalties?

A guilt? The lies?

A deep and hidden narcissism?

Is it them that I surmise?

 

A sickly need to own –

To call someone my own

When I, in fact have known

That no one, nothing is my own?

 

Does it begin in fantasy?

One asks the question

Wherefrom, why from

Comes that special gallery

Of idle fancy?

 

If the simile is ‘green’ with envy,

What then color jealousy?

Red, brown, orange, pink or blue?

Perhaps there is no hue

In color’s range

To chronicle that landscape and its danger!

 

Thus adding one more deadly sin

To slot into the other seven:

Is it…could they be akin

To chilling, killing, love destroying jealousy?

 

Thinking About…Jealousy 9.18.2016

Pure Nakedness;

Arlene Corwin

 

 

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