You are an intriguing little thing. With a careless brush of your hand against mine, it was sufficient to send my soul pirouetting. I picture ourselves rollerblading to the ends of the earth, while beads of reality and imagination adsorbed on our skin damp with sweat. Because we longed for each other, we took turns to inhale the streaks of fire in our hair. Under a twinkling orchestra of the brightest stars, I would catch the evanescent wink in your eye and laugh gaily.
Wanderlust gripped me as my fingers traced your arteries, your veins, your heart. I daren't go further, for fear that love will tear us apart.
myra and a sad storyWith strawberry mascara streaming down her visage
and blue windows reflected in her eyes
She picked up a pen, a bit too stoically
lying amongst eight paper dice
"Logic is harsh, hurt is awake
I'm bedridden with lemon honeystars
Pain is fresh, smiles are fake
I'm on a moon off to Saturn, Venus and Mars"
Her poison-pen letter was done, she reveled in her fate
From behind her roared a standing ovation
With trembling hands clasped around an accolade
Nothing could be compared to her elation
A spiral blur engulfed her senses
She closed her eyes in bliss
With fires in her heart and a minty aftertaste
This was a moment she could not miss