Her fingers move otherworldly
and as she touches the objects of my room
I see a glimpse of another universe
in which her presence travels
between a thin line of present and future
somewhere only she can be.
Pure trust some would say
but I  know her secret
and all she keeps in herself
to make a whole atmosphere
fit in a bookshelf.
Her realness is what makes my brain
unfold into a million words.
Does she know she’s watched all the time?
I am the victim and the one to blame
for I’ve chosen to keep her insane.
Insanely mine, she is no one else’s but for my eyes
only God knows how much her light disturbs my sleep
and how little one can forget all about her
as she’s loved many hearts
entirely, entirely true.
True love moves her the same way her fingers do
so lightly, undeniably dark
as one could only dream:
her love keeps her alive
Only mine, but she’s given it so many times
which one of them has the best part?
They have a piece of heaven
but don’t know how to hide
neither do they know
her love will never die
as they try to search it somewhere
nowhere one could find.
Not in the ground
not in the sky
it’s in her peace of mind
so full of every life she’s lived
but everyone knows it’s her first time.
She hides it as well as she shows her wisdom
wisdom that hasn’t been seen
since the great God has sculpted our home
and made Hell for the ones who never got to know.
Hopefully the light of the muse
will shine on you, too.
“Come on you raver, you seer of visions.”
There is an invisible Sun.