I.
For the time being
I have lifted the blanket of watchful eyes,
as I am now hidden beneath a word
that holds together my patchwork soul;
furiously penning each thought
as if it was the last.
Beautiful, are they not?
With all the grace of the moonlight
skipping upon the surface of a dark lake.
II.
There is romance that seeps into unsettle spirits,
a call deep from within making a forest enchanted
and dreams everlasting.
That is my escape,
my destination.
III.
Hollow love takes time falling from lips,
like a slow motion paper cut to the heart
and I often wonder why it’s even said
for as I hear it
flowers have not bloomed
in any extraordinary ways.
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