fix

oh i am done with you here
before in my ears it is whispered
there are things you will never have
neither our lady of the marmalade
nor venus of velvet in short
desire for the desirable
the once and the foreseeable
past and future of love
for how are we now
never tired of waiting
and how are we now


this can be unthinking
so naturally bemusing
that ying laughed with yang
and did all things rhyming


your knickers with flowers on them
are van goghs to stare for hours
i cant hazard that portrait
in which your silhouette is stark naked
but for where you have the blossoms
obscuring the road to heaven
i cant see your shirt in the skies
cant see your chest in the clouds
nor your feet on the hillside
or the windmills of your blouse
but im not blind
i am not maimed
there is salvation when the lights dim
i grab at it in the dark