A poem about unrequited infatuation |
If ever I should have only Your hair, eyes and blood I wouldn't have all of you But enough to satisfy my basic desires I see myself in a delirious reverie planting these mementos of you To grow trees in you honor I will name the trees after stars and gemstone Then harvest the fruit of apples Slightly resembling the ones I wish to see mirrored in your looking glass irises I take the branches and twigs of these trees And burn them in a funeral pyre of my sanity All the while the harsh smoke fills my sight I have blurred vision and from this distance I see a silhouette That is either Venus in a straight jacket and razorwire noose Or it is mania in a wedding dress With her bouquet of tulips and lithium... Either way She is immaculate beauty who's only parallel are the dancing flames Growing hotter every minute Red hot! White hot! Helium flash heat! Set off by sparks of kindness Falling on a turpentine trail of infatuated passion And leading straight to my ignited and engulfed disposition I feel my heart beat faster yet As though some Nova D'Amore Might burst within my chest and paint the walls In fantastic vermilion portraits Expressing my feelings more truely Than any words I have struggled To organize into coherent sentences thus far |