Sunday, July 5, 2020



I once thought that true love
Was when someone saw your real face,
The way you saw yourself
When you liked yourself,
Which was a Halley’s comet event.
Ha, that’s not true;
You've always exaggerated your discontent.

What if what she loves is like this poem:
A trifling splurge
Of rhythmic words 
And heartfelt momentary truth?

What if all she sees is the once in a lifetime
Flash of your phosphorescent tail
Just before your core of dust and ice
Rounds the corner on its ellipse
Through the vast darkness of space?

What if all she really sees
Is a shimmering of earth-bound fireflies
In the stillness of midnight skies,
The polished void of black glass,
While the universe flows
And your real face
Is long long passed.


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