When I observe that

mackerel beauty of

stars dancing on a

coal-black night

crystalline and formless

–my old heart breaks.

It used to be that

when young

Beauty expanded my heart to the full

as such elastic young organs are

prone to be.

But

after years of walking upon

hard stone pavements

past strangers with

Trenched foreheads

Open hands

That clearly marked

Pain

(anguish)

That such pure beauty breaks my heart—

It being brittle and ready to crack

Simply imploding from the greatness

of her guileless art.

Beauty leaves her mark on me.

I am one branded with fire

That I might behold her brilliance

For one fractured moment.

©1999-2024 Veekwriter All Rights Reserved