It's just a state of mind.
One must approach a lady
In phases;
Expressing the love
In words careful
Of retrieving
And believing.
All in a glance
She answers.
The fight for meaning
Is being swiveled
By love's renaissance.

Pale kings and warriors
Play part in castles
Named life and death and creed,
Hailing servant majesties
Upon slaves and heretics
Adverse in competence.

A jester speaks up,
Detesting comic duties
Implored by tyrant rulers
Of life and death and creed,
Requesting majesties
Implored by slaves and heretics.

She peddles on the street
Gold and silver laces
At minimal costs.
Brilliant stones, rubies
Pile up her portable stall;
Neither for rent nor for sale
But in exchange of the love
More priceless
Than gemstones.

Retail consumption
Seems all mixed up.
I can't recall
If those clusters
Are real,
Not just ornaments
On sidewalk trenches.

No ordinary stranger
Seeks me breathing.
Resentment
And discontent
Shelves his grieving.

Asking alms' say
Ere reckoning's claim:
Reprisal
Of refusal
Calls out my name.

Not that I am selfish
But true, I am unkind.
To that extent
Of stale moment
I have been blind.

I spied on my beloved
Whom I henceforth met
After such a long silence.

She wore herself white clothing
And deep blue trousers
To captivate my being.

I recall it was not she
Who wounded my heart
And barred my life completely.

New one? The scars haven't mend.
But I think I'll try
Until this episode ends.

You're not mine
Yet I still crave
The excitement
And convulsion
Of little chat lines.

Ain't that much
Heavy heart to bear,
But the make-believe
Enchantment
Of my dying spirit.

I have to wait for her
Right after that low-priced meal -
Food offered by my coin purse.

It has to go on like this
Now, until the end of the hours;
At five for my next chance
To fetch her and go home...

Fare coming out
From my torn, thin pockets.