'Je suis perdu'
is a wrong spell I hang like oracles on
our lips
You knew purple is my favourite hue
yet
you said you'd show me what colour loneliness bleeds
As though the uneven mixture of blue and
black
tells no stories of their own
That veins are but pulsing mechanisms, our
daily battle with the urge to
control
We
are our own Gods
In all perfect naïvete tweak the points in the stars and
misalign fates
That all of a sudden the night sky, starlit and bare, are no longer
whispering secrets or teasing us with the winds.
Remember that desperation for instant
gratification
A single affirmation always taken for granted.
We are lonely.
And loneliness,
is red.