Swift spinning swallows
twist among swirling
shooting stars
painted
on the walls
of her soft
sinuous temple.
Now blurred like faded graffiti
on a crumbling city.
She blew me one last kiss,
as the sun struggled
with its amber chains.
Dragging
the sun and myself
into the depths of darkness.
Steeping memories of those tattoos;
becoming stains
on the canvas
of my heart.
Her last words forever etched
“I love you,
but I\'m not...
in love with you.”
The conflict of understanding
wrenched my guileless heart.
Now decayed with years
my youthful ignorance
disintegrated;
only to expose the truth,
in the meaning
of her words.