The Reconstructed

“Steady, steady” I tell her, whilst knowing nothing about archery. she is able to hold the tension with poise. her hand resting against her cheek, where i wished mine to be, she listens to my steady advice. I too am composed, I think

the string pulled back like the way she wore her hair; i imagine that asinine figment Cupid lingering. it is a shame we try to strike each other with our arrows, but a friend told me she is worth mine, those marked love. I can concur to converge on this point but I still can’t tell.

All this chill, this millennia of courtship is torture, the last millennia I’d of struck down a fawn for her to feed us for a week. Oh good, it’s my turn as I hope to impress her with irony. Inevitably, that teenager working here will tell me I’m doing it wrong and perhaps my embarrassment will endear her. it is evident, like an eager goiter; i have been found out. I am not an exact shot and I somehow pinched my index finger. I try to disguise it but I accidentally look at my finger four times too many and she asks, “did you hurt your finger?” with a imperceptible measure of sincerity.

the idea of the whole thing, I envisioned to be musical. I saw a harp, all of its 47 strings orchestrating each of their arrows as I pull on them as they link to her heart. Like a serenade or a sonata or a sonnet or something. i tried hard to not try too hard.

“I am better at darts,” I say, “I thought this would be like darts.” as if I had no conception of this sport before we went. Of course there would be darts at the bar and she would suggest we play and she was more accurate and precise than I’d imagine, correcting my pronunciation, rubbing instead of patting my head when I spill my drink. Thankful to not be condescended upon, I caress her face in the precise place where the bowstring rested, then blow a kiss before flicking a chance inner bullseye. This kills her, but I’m starting to win, starting to be steady in stride.

we tire of games with targets and instead turn to the ones we’ll create between us, ones won when we stay steady inside.