Making a Star of David

I never imagined that star was for me,
despite my mother’s teasing prompts since my memory began,
those two opposing triangles constantly at odds,
mirroring my own parents.

Only later do I learn the cleverness
of turning the top-heavy triangle pink,
clinching my orientation and cultural background
in one neat, geometric package.

How strange two shapes could encapsulate
a whole rainbow of affection,
all the ways I’ve felt
about every man I’ve loved.

Adding whiskers, eye color, the square bluntness of fingers
should be the easy part.  But what about the silence
that smiles across a table of eggs and juice
after a night so close no air could move between us?

I think the triangles should stand side-by-side,
the way my love and I will be,
each facing the same direction
but slightly different in color.

David Rutiezer