Yes but maybe Not

 

Blue

as it feels

the breeze

frozen,

on your gaze

while we look away.

No sadness

less to hear,

but beautiful, for sure,

the bliss is near.

A diamond

in the roughest

of its edges,

bearing

the toughest

of choices,

left unbroken

by a fog.

Uncertainty

fits the balm,

with which reality,

dyes

its oceans

calm

while singing

the season

of unearthing:

A desire

to persist,

in the moment,

in which

making becomes

action, uncorrupted,

unfazed

by luscious chasms of

glamour of yonder.

And chances, turn themselves,

into their wildest

of destroyers,

and they're the most gorgeous

perfect predators.

Burning flowers

in the air,

as we risen

the ashes

of crisped butterfly

wings

escaping through

my fingers

as they

incinerate

my oscillations of

young but tender feelings

of remorse.

After glancing at

my knees weakened,

as I catch a glimpse

of waves of aroma of

intoxicating

dark hairs

and those deep

bright eyes,

shimmering

knowing

all too well

that karma would

Strike me back.

Making Drama

too afraid

to abandon me.

But not enough

fierce

to convince me

to leave...