Forever
is a day, filled with the breeze, to ponder upon
love.
We risk for love, to unveil love, to speak a kernel’s
love.
I met her in darkness, a ruthless ego, torn by a
pending
sorrow. We mused a vase, spoke a nib, and
parted
through fibs. We ebbed enchant, webbed to violence,
to
tiptoe music. She loved for grapes, a soothing nectar,
even
pears and plums. I was apricot joy, to tear a blouse,
tipsy
off of fig-rum. I do embellish, to ponder shyly, for
want
of innocence. We laughed freely, to strum a harp,
to
speak the flute. She charmed with ease, a frightening
tease,
to yearn for dates. I knew not the weather, as
dangerous
as pet bulls; and she knew well a map, a
channel
peach. We wrote this color, a lance to soul,
sipping
on puce wine. We raised volume, to storm a riddle,
where
forever is a day. I’m more a wheel, to spin a life,
rapt’d
in fancy. She’s more for chess, to cleek a soul,
where
love is act-one. I embellish love, a sea of beasts, to
sail
for adventure; and more for love, a humor soft, to
morph
morph
into
an opus.
