I buried Cupid’s arrows

I buried Cupid’s arrows
in my dreams and awoke
thirsty for fires and desires.
When I drank an ocean,
zephyr sings a heavy dirge
to reconcile the fears
with my tears slowly battling
like soldiers fighting for
life. There is no sadness
that could bare a soul
other than the misfortunes
of a heart, a dying heart.

 

First published in the Literary Yard

Nightsky

I ask for the galaxy in your eyes,
each constellation dancing
as we waltz in the Milky Way
of deepest desire. The maiden
moon playing jazz, the stars
welcoming us in a night
of hopes and dreams. I could
not see why the sky could be
this mysterious like a woman
with all her secretive smiles,
witness the chorus of constellations
trying to embrace the melody
and rhythm we used to believe
as an idiopathic pain lost in
reveries we hid in our hearts.

 

 

First published in the Literary Yard