A whiff of a sweet warm scent;
The corner of my eye
Catches that lean frame,
And I must stop myself
From letting go of the immediate real
And instead, falling
Through the ticking hands
of clocks
And darkness dotted with twinkling
pinpricks of stars
Into the translucent designs
Derived from the depths of my mind.
I must untangle myself
From the winding passions within which
I have seemed to conceal myself.
For the longer I chase after these enticing dreams
The more lost I become
Among the lies I tell myself,
The lies I wish to believe,
Because love makes a more beautiful illusion.