You Say: the Eclipse
A story about a poet, his girlfriend and their pretty complicated relationship (5)
Kurtistani; aab, cddceec, ffb
You say, imagination is a locus
and breeding ground for the scribblecoccus
bacteria that kill relationships.
It's true, my dear, my imagination
can do a lot, let say, look down a dress
or an abyss of cosmos, fluoresce
in infrared light, flash with a citation
of fictional philosopher, invent
a new poetics, but it isn't meant
for you and your incoming incarnation.
At last, love seems to be an act of nature
but just an I.O.U or a debenture -
the noon, the sudden twilight, the eclipse.
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