Why Ridicule Me And Laugh?

Why ridicule me and laugh? And drive me to the point of despair and insanity. When a chink of your blue eyeshadow Is a serpent entering my body? It is a fever at dawn when we brush hands. And the morning frost melts like a tear. And drops, spooling into my palm, yet it remains without evaporating into clouds. And in the evening, there are breathless moths. Dancing around moons and stars of fire There are moments of insecurity and honesty. Like silken threads of love pulling us together from either side like a shoelace not yet tied So, I am stumbling over my words. So, I can't pretend I am not a fledgling. A small bird in a cuckoo's nest willing to fall, to crash and break in a hope to believe that even in your cruelty my moaning will unfold into a weak murmur and find you nude without your armour, your sword to slay Me and your invisible dragons, and I am wearing my chainmail clothes. Using my flesh, my organs, to see your inner light and taste your midnight beauty and might, your inner lust, your passion almost monetary yet willing to starve and die. Warming me for a second into a mustard tree And for a moment, I still have faith in your love.