. . . .A shallow humming in the darkness,
The wind an original breeze,
The teens kiss,
Whisk hands toward the stars,
Back and forth,
As Van Gogh smiles at his masterpiece
The dark figures lean heads on their hands,
As they watch what they long for atop spires,
These are the lonely, the gargoyles,
Who dance in their minds—the mellow,
An exuberant, luxurious romance
The humming fades into giggles,
The gargoyles slowly turn,
To gaze at Van Gogh and mumble,
"To dance, to kiss,"
To feel a love like this,"
On this stone hedge—please paint me as humble."
Many so dear amongst wind fade,
The echoes of laughter, They can only make of. . .
Duels of love as the teens clench hands towards Van Gogh,
Whisk, kiss, run— take the stars with them,
And leave the gargoyles to cry in the darkness. . . .
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