Can you snuff out the light?

You still try to burn me
with the fire of love

But this self-destructive
self-consuming fire is burning
out our love memories

. . . and we stand naked

Our past intentions are like
the burned out candle rope

Everything happens for a reason
and this candle rope served its
purpose

The reason of our loneliness,
our vagaries, are, the unspoken
mystery of our broken hearts

Nothing to mend but something
to live with, the infinite strength of
the eternal soul exists in every cell
of my body. Those memories can
never be stupefied. – Live and Let die -
That is the wisdom of the myriad centuries.
Momentarily stymied, indeed, but that is
the absolute knowledge of evolution.

It has always been that way . . .

Love for life is always the Answer.

The portrait of the enchanting beautiful Liar

Words uttered with playful passion
Someone’s life-giving medicine of compassion
Spoken word memories enraptured.

Speaking in so many different mother tongues
Alas the bond making and bond breaking ravishing
untruth untwined and entwined with the beauty of forgetfulness.

Still the blushing flowers of jealousy spread their scent.
That is the cheap overprized perfume of love’s notion,
It still sells well in the meat market of unworthy desperation.
Feeling Oh so precious?

Why is the beauty of the rest of the world left aside?
A clamor is not enough to settle down the inner commotion
A playful laughter against great luster and charisma.

Who is to say that A liar is not the unspoken reflective truth
Who can blame the beautiful enchanting liar that dared to
listen carefully and interpret the broken sounds of the inner
commotion? Create a song? Be the composer of the
unforgettable symphonic moment Oh you beautiful liar.

La traviata mon amour . . . la traviata . . . sempre libera . . .