[Usually periwinkle blue, today I’m feeling more midnight blue, no glitter. Here’s a pseudocode of a poem which might go somewhere, eventually. Shouts to William Butler Yeats, yo]
Love is Pain.
“ is a meat grinder for broken hearts.
“ “ cayenne pepper in the eye, lemon in a fresh paper cut.
“ keeps me awake, gives me night sweats, drenches my sleep shirt, mats my hair.
“ makes me want to commit Hate crimes – not out of principle, but out of circumstance.
“ = the Devil.
Like Lucifer, Love is the brightest Light. Perhaps that’s Pain itself – Light fighting to burst past Pride, but the walls are too thick.
It’s the Light, pushing pushing, making friction, heating as it churns with vicious velocity, burning within.
Love is a fighter.
“ is fortified by Hope, driven by Resolve.
“ “ a twin, and champions its pair. ‘Soul mates’ is the regular jargon, but that’s a bunch of New Age hooey.
“ “ an element. The Soul is a catalyst.
By themselves, nothing materializes until they meet their match.
the dark ends of the Universe
reveal their Beauty.
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