Wednesday, June 27, 2018

even the things termed perfect

Even the things termed perfect fail;
in peak minutes

my hand stops writing with the same curves
poems for your eyes

you stop responding to steady walking feet
because yours are too heavy

the sun shines in all the wrong hours
causing us an excessive tan, unaccounted for

bodies get drawn to the wrong bodies
without just reason

even the things termed perfect fail;
there's a hole in happiness' belly

there's a hole in the pockets of the clouds
that's how we get the rain

there's a missing piece in all that's perfect
for even the narcissus' flowers lost their father in the pursuit of perfection.

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