It hurts to see beauty
with eyes that run dry.
A blood-stained collage envelopes:
a fettered body below azure calm,
tormented by sunset, scared for a while,
you by my side with bindi-
strange calmness between us, forever.
But darkness will rescue-
from feigning, from laughter,
(it is strange that there are no smiles)
from this madness called life.
It is beauty that hurts.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
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