Poetry and love  like the rustling of wind

with an inconsistent heartbeat tempi


To the weave and imperfection of my

mistress, dark and twisted like root


Imperfection of her perfection;

a wagon of jargon is hers


Her lips bloody in hue


Her voice orchestrated in-tune to

the symphony of a phantom





Even marble tender with

love, so why your heart

refuses I wonder


I marvel at the shimmering

star of the dark sky


The secrets behind the

sky I unravel


Your lips soft like the

spoken words of

a of lover


Moon kissed the sun

an eclipse is born,

perfect opportune to

lock lips till eternity.