A STORY ON US

 //They buried you but forgot me//

Dead marigolds in the waterglass,

a forgotten beauty.

Uunshed tears and memories 

merge together ,

forms a mire -

alluring yet deadly. 

I was pulled into pieces_

between love and obedience,

between earnesty and respect.

A complete fool,

a useless rag..

The wolves will follow me

until the end of the desert,

howling the magnificent notes

of all the sins I committed.

Thirsty ghosts speaking of

 good old days,  seducing

the depressed blue vein

of my  right hand. 

I see blind gods,

their eyes peering through me,

what will they find inside:

hidden daggers, mutilated words

and beautiful lies?

They call me a hectic, 

one bitten by a bat.

How cruel to misinterpret

your mulberry kisses into

a Draculian cut, a satanic rite?

You are a traitor who left me

silently,  mercilessly, 

turning my world 

silent and barren.

What  remains is a treasure box 

without treasure,

total catastrophe,

cultivated blankness.

Am angry,  

thwarted and helpless 

like a moth with burned wings,

who went near the flame

willingly,

aware of the consequences.

I set fire to myself,

a doomed light.

Ashes everywhere _

soft enough to camouflage 

with the earth and wind.

Now,

Cut my black curly locks

Proserpine..

Will you?

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