Undelivered Love Letter

The moon now ended

my scribbles done 

in the largest of enlarged pupil

Asleep for love

blindly ranting

my scratches in the fine wood

they may awaken you

but no shurley

not for nothing

Upon your conscience revival

I'd point my eyes at yours

and ask of your love

Then I drop

I fall

I fail

I mask

I clown

I shrink

I lose, but choose

I'll burn these pages before you wake

I'll choose my stages

and my mistakes

I pulled the long black hair of fate

as I parted her like the red sea.

95