Lost Love Lust

and to fret in winter weather, or summer weather of cigarettes abyss, she knew he was a philosophical excuse of a human being.

and when teapot muffins in red dresses ran quickly amongst the rabbits of hunger she truly found the light in her room shined more brightly than usual

and in shock she looked at him and said: you think you’re that amazing?”, completely agreeing that he should just get over himself already.

and the many facades of clumsily watching love turtles ravish beautiful nymphs on fields of gold gave her a sense of security, that perhaps her thoughts had not been without meaning.

and the hops and bops of major reassessment flushed through her heart much like the rivers of southern Bombay.

and yelling at the top her lungs “les enfants! les enfants!”, the sky blackened much like the circles of crows around deceased attractions and underestimated energy fields.

and the pencil worked much like a pen, making random scratches on the strong surface of disillusioned papyrus and cilantro candles she danced amongst the trees of understanding.

and the telegram reached her heart quite quickly as she squindled much like a young girl under the blankets of her dreams and hopes.

and she wrote this poem returning to the unlikely events of her life all while they danced in the sun and found pink cherry blossom beginnings.