• eclipse of love

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you're the sunset wine, the sand and the waves, with your hypnotising gaze. you're the secret cellphone calls but now ringing in my ears, driving me to the dead-end of the cliff; insane. and you were my favourite colour, painted my beloved room with you but now the paint is chipping off, exposing the white lies i had once decorated with gold. the deepest of voids hide in the corners and now i cannot fill them with my sunflowers or poems.

you're the first-morning breath, the late-night thoughts. burning in your hands, i am living with torched graveyards. if i had worn the pink silk dress, danced with an angel's grace, would you have shown up in the backside of the castle? because you're the caffeine that heals and adds fuel to my aches and fires.

your eyelids hide the best mirrors like the little pool in my old neighbour's lawn. dancing flames walk on treacherous slopes, breathe in the densest of fog when they pointed out the holes in our masterwork. and you sing the greyest lullabies in your petal-soft voice that i always adored but the night is passing by, sleepless and endangered.

you're the ink stains in my arms that i will never wash, repeating the patterns that you drew, the feelings that always grew. searching for the red-rimmed goblets that they drank from the night our home burned to dust. this silence echoes the words they chanted at our majestic fall.

you're the sleep that i need but can never conquer. a never-ending war that is going on in the battlefield of my heart. if i called you with my pride buried six feet under, will you dare to raise me back to life, my dear? for you're the green in the leaves and the brown in the rust. you speak in codes i wish i had never made up.

your silhouette dances on the edge of my cold ground, washing me with the frost of a winter i never loved. suffocation and relief, you bring out them all. maybe i'm the red queen with no white wedding gown or tiara of jasmines. so you added thorns to the story, the very change of the plot.

you're the horizons where all my angels have been slaughtered. you decorate my sins in your castle for the exhibition. and you know very well how blind i am in the intoxication, so you wake me up at 6 o'clock. now the minutes have passed, i don't recognise the knock on my door anymore.

but you're here with the songs i don't want to listen to anymore. and the laughs and the storyline i had once crafted with love. you're here with the same hands, same eyes, same words for me and i know i'd fight wars over wars to let you go and end up writing about you all over again.

you come to me as an eclipse of love and i still search for the light in your poetic universe.

— SweetSimu.

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