Tuesday, May 31, 2011


Perhaps there is no
love in your eyes,
Perhaps the misted
sigh of passion is
yet another mirage,
Perhaps you are a liar,
And me, your lie,
Perhaps these evening shadows
may transcend the seas,
Or perhaps they may drown,
Choke in the throat
And clot in a bloody heart,
I am the murderer of a thousand words,
A coward, draped in myriad veils,
And you, a feather,
A flake of snow from an exotic land,
Floating beyond my reach...