If beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
then why does vision only reflect the gray of your gaze?
Wishes projected dulls the sight to only falsity shown in the upturn of sweet lips.
The comfort offered only in carnal glances from across a room filled with accusing stares.
Who will hold the hand of the murderer of a reverie?
Stones are fired from love scorned scars filled with jealousy for an affair of a sword crossed battle involving innocence that was no one’s to receive.
To feel the touch of one more emotionless encounter,
the soul will take flight with the evening’s first song.
Tears locked away until dawn reveals what the darkness played across a mind filled with delicate hope for a future that was lost with the first taste of claimed rapture.
Seeing innocent pain spread along with the exhale from wanting lips,
running into the arms of a lover consumed by the need for just one more taste of an imagined freedom.
Never once thinking of the after.
Hands trail along the surface of a borrowed splendor grasping at dreams belonging to another.
Unable to obtain the key to the box filled with the joys meant for a better person by far.
So with one more sideways gaze and a fleeting graze of fingertips,
a life is given for a false haven that is already occupied by sweet nothing whispers from the conquests of all his yesterdays.
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