I could write about happy
subtle things
loving eyes
and the miniscule freedom
it applies
But I love to hurt
it has beauty, too
What else is deeper
and the most honest truth?
Happiness is fleeting
even amongst the most cues
Sadness, true hurt
paralyses and wraps itself
down the body, past the spine
into your being
into your soul
and it lasts
much longer than ache
or a smile
for a sweet, long while