These psychedelic fixtures of fabric,
Pinned to the confines of a mind,
Ravaged by the cruel force of love,
Yellows, reds, blues,
Sacrificing their striking intensity,
For sweet spawned hues,
Of pinks, purples, oranges…
Enveloping this mind,
Eliminating all other prospects.
On the outside,
Cool parted lips bring pleasure,
Sensually satisfying the lonely aching soul.
A hurricane of immeasurable force,
Raining hopes, dreams, laughter,
Tornadoes of guilt.
Is this truly right?
Quelled only by those smiling lips,
And twin pinched wrinkles,
Receding into happy folds,
Next to green eyes,
Green eyes so telling,
Their whirlpools of grey,
Reflect rare remnants of truth.
An open night sky,
Under the midnight glow,
Of majestic meteors,
Further away than time can yet define,
Four eyes glimpse into the future.
Into the past.
Only the stars know if the hands,
So peacefully intertwined,
Will someday wear,
And kiss in a bliss full enough,
To awaken a summer breeze.
Tossed about a blue green sea,
Characterized by the uncertainty,
Human kind so often succumbs to,
The ravaged mind,
The lover’s ravaged mind,
Painted by a schizophrenic painter’s sticky brush,
Under the condition,
That he play god,
The light of the light house,
A guiding sign,
Away from the treachery of jagged rocks,
Sculpted by time.
The light of a smile,
A selfless incandescent ray of honesty,
Of eternal beauty,
Captivates a soul,
Reels it in,
And the ravaged mind,
Produces unimaginable beauty