Bedazzled

You tell me you are not beautiful
but you don’t stop
to see
How the wind holds
her sweet breath
and whispers
her approval to me
How the sparkling waters
under the sunlight
burst forth like a million
rapid heartbeats,
How the stars of the calm
night glitter much so
bright, you don’t see.
You only tell me
you’re not
beautiful
and don’t
stop
to
see
I’m only
like
the wind,
water
and
the
stars
Bedazzled.
By
your
beauty.

After I killed you

It’s odd.
When I leave behind
the confinement of
the cold, conditioned
Subway train
And the smell of rain,
fresh on the pavement
arouse my senses,
dormant otherwise.
I think of you
lying down,
the green of the grass
so filled with life
beneath, mocking you.
The blood curling in
the clarity of the greenery
Like a crimson spell, opaque.

It’s odd
Because
My hands are washed
And
I feel no guilt

All Imperfect Things

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There is no more time.
The darkness which devours all is here.
Open your eyes and see,
This is the proof.

When will I…
…ever be able to catch up with you?
– perhaps its too late…
…Perhaps I’ll never be able too?

Irreversible time and
the irrepressible impulse
for brittle, fleeting
Words, overflow and spill.

Just too far for me to reach.

All imperfect things.