A little devil with horns,
definitely assumes that
flowers will surely dry with time,
and the horns will surely sigh…
* * *
The only assumptions that are right
are those that all life end,
horns droop,
and flowers wither and die…
* * *
Lucky we are,
I, still am,
pretty and fit with flowers pinned in the hair,
you, still are
handsome with shaggy mane,
we, still are
with the savvy of desires…
* * *
I may have uttered that I love you,
the 3 words that may connote burden,
yet, I might’ve had already fallen,
long before I met you,
I, a proud yet transcended light little humble being,
full of noble love for life in her ecumenic heart,
with you on the horizon…
* * *
In fact, we are all vulnerable with cruel melting time,
without the mercy of eternity,
With no tears,
everyone cries…
* * *
No one can assume love’s magic,
as no one witnessed life’s solidity,
so why worry unsavvily, we, the little humans,
the definition of relative relations,
and the non-existing eternity…
* * *
You see me, yet not me,
a vessel that contains
a little universe, mysterious and intricate;
a little heart that embraces big,
also the one who randomly stood on her feet.
* * *
I see you, yet not you,
the Face of Almighty,
with virtues that may and may not exist…
a pair of eyes with light that may only just be passing by me…
* * *
I can lend you a shovel
for the snow that may only be dreamed, favourably still summer,
You can lend me your shoulders, propitiously still erect,
for tears that may ordinarily be assumed,
of sorrow, yet may very well be imagined,
transcendentally, of joy!
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