Has wine turned to vinegar
on her tongue
slipping from a kiss?
UNFIXED.
The gamboge moon
suspends memories and casualties
from our love war.
Gravity has weakened
the ideal.
WOMAN.
In the lover’s paradox
emotion is nothing but an illusion
and the distance between soul stars
can never be bridged.
These shambolic objections
in our celestial play
confuse reality with truth.
Our calculus is measured
by the waiting
of two hearts
who must
BELIEVE.
© "Neon Veil" (All rights reserved)
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| Vincent Van Gogh, The starry sky, 1889 |
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