Come,let's play a game!Let's pretend!
Pretend I win !
And you lose.
Then you'll have to give me a kiss!
I dream of you and of a kiss!
Alas, we've grown so old over these minutes and I fear you might put off your cigarette and announce the end of your visit...I'm sure you're going to say the famous words which have now turned into ponderous blocks of concrete overloading my glass- fragile shoulders.
'I am very afraid I must go.I've got some work to do...'
'Work to do....'
'Work to do...'
Curse these little devils!
YOUR words that crush and burn and stab and ruin my domino insides .
What are you doing to me ?
Thoughts keep revolving and punch me in my sternum, blowing up my guts.
Bonfire of my heart.
Peeving,yet so precious to me, because they're Your Words ; your curse.
You haven't revealled a word for the last 5 minutes, meekly exhaling smoke just like a dragon. Gracefully, your cascades of black hair play Hide and Seek between the velvet curtains of your smoke.
It's blue .
Imaginary butterfly wings whisper to me:
Tell her,just tell....'.
But much desired words are scattered away by an invisible leprechaun, as soon as they reach my vocal cords .
Therefore, never come out in the form of perceivable sound waves.
Maybe, if you were a bat, you could receive information through another frequency - my thoughts.
But you simply aren't a bat.
Another day has silently slipped away, and still, I crave your darkness. Still, I await for someone else to say the words I cannot verbalize . Wish I was born a mute - perfect excuse for my numbness.
I like sneak-peeking while you breathe tobacco. Long ,slim cigarettes, extensions of your soft, kitten paws. Subtle fragrance of yourself mingles with incense of magic.
Lay all your mercy, and bewitch me!
I wonder if it's really you who enjoys the cigarette or the other way around.
How I hate your cigarette !
Wish I had been born your favorite brand tobacco!
So lucky to have been touched by your holy hands and . They've committed such heinous atrocity to have kissed the lips
of a Goddess.
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned!
I must confess!
I desperately want to give her The Life out of my own hands .
My Venus -
You And Myself,
A humble Canova .
Forgive me, Father, for I love her miserably !.
I worship Her shadow upon this Earth, and hope one day, if I kiss her footsteps ,she would stop walking for just a second, afraid not to harm my kisses.
Frailty in my delirious love visions has taken the form of a woman.
Love becomes more unfathomable ,as it carves more pain inside
Maybe suffering is in fact love's triumph,for what becomes in fact immortal,
if not the atrocious discomposing of your heart,transcending through time ?
Couldn't you just kiss The Frog Prince?
I would be the fairy-tale frog and you my - Redeeming Princess.
My Love in the Asylum.
And then we could have our happily ever after. Just like in the story. Forever and ever...
Though this is not a story.
Not even close.
I am not a frog. I'm simply not.
- I am very afraid I must go.I've got some work to do.....
'He makes me lie down in green pastures,he leads me beside quiet waters,he restores my soul'(Psalm 23)