Pain & Seeing

What are smiles without pain and pain without smiles? And

there she stands a bundle of angelic sorrow. I tickle and tug

and tackle angst, afraid of letting life; and she smiles

innocence—and cries luxury. We die our passion both sky

and moon, forever deer eyes, gazing a weathered dream. I

catch her kneeling prayer, alive in ecstasy, nursing purgatory.

We nudge an instrument and sound bursts forth and art is

graphed in symbols. I love as yesteryear our first date; and we

tether our third week, speaking and vowing of tomorrow. Our

earth is so vast, filled with meaning, bathing in values. But

pain, a vocal phantom, depicted in disposition, flying into a

frenzy. I’m so near tears, a palm filled with crosses, etching

into our fingertips; and so much to gain, trekking through

haze and smog, latched to misery, fraught with visions.