in my poetry

Hyacinth garden

Spill those pastel colors into the evening’s untouched sky.

Imperfect horizons trace the little swallow’s eye.

See our world’s tilt away from the tall buildings glass.

Bare bridges arch over the waters edge strong hints of impasse.

Could I bend myself that you would remember?

So my love could arouse your breathe in embers.

When I heard your voice burst forth with serenity.

Again, expose me as less a man immodestly.

Were we there, only to trade in air?

Eye to eye, hearts blinded in glaring stare.

Each corresponded to tears that moisten.

We saw those nights when Gotham’s lights shined, so wonderfully.

We were a reflection of the stars in heaven.

I know you were the perfection in my poetry.

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