Crowds mocked her “beauty”, and peculiar scent.

But the bewildered found gems in those coastal colored eyes,

no matter how distorted the face.

Musk aroma struck fluttering feelings,



butterfly pheromones.

Must have been hoax cologne.

A fool to think since she lacked Venus’ allure,

she would no doubt lack her games.


Lying lips, spit bees, but every kiss seemed cherries.

Falsely comforted in crooked arms.

Humming those songs, that belonged to us,

to discover they could have belonged to strangers.

Eloquent mirage, sculpted for the naive girl’s needs.


Wanted to believe novels of excuses, renowned author of love fiction.

Tattered, tired, thoughts racing for foundation,

blind heroic sense to find the treasured soul,

beauty an illusion.


won’t find devotion searching for ghosts.


Beyond the burnt, stench stained cover,

strong faith the inside was meant to illuminate.

Each ember page turned, more careless and repugnant than the last.

Reading with a Deerstalker hat, compass,

hunting for jewels…suppose.


Found dirt.


Inside wretched grammar smeared with empty torn space.

Simpleton, dreamer?

To think there was anything more…