Nothing wakes me than the turbulence in your eyes
And the sun is yours forever, as my perfect gift.
There’s nothing comparable with your streamlined waist
Running down your toned pelvic floor
To the slender, long legs.
And here I am, crucified to your love
But you don’t see the intense heat in me,
That I spew the weight of men
Who lift concrete bars on their heads.
My life is different, am like dew in smog
But you don’t know, that am a different breed
Our poles will never collide
We fly in disarray
Anointed in rustic charm
And amused by our hallucinations of being cared for
But none of this is true
We are poles that will never collide
Amidst all our cravings, they won’t be one.
You really don’t know that am not the shooting star
Am not the matador
Am rather the rustic nuisance to your parlance
Am the keen knife to your elegance
Until when you exfoliate
And become that dust at the hem of our existence.