LOVE'S HEAVENLY DISGUISES


Huffing and puffing,
Moving my feet at a quickened pace,
Three and half miles per hour
To be exact,
The sun,
Still blinding and irritating, although
It had begun its decent to its hiding place
Somewhere behind the ever-changing horizon,
(It just never sits still that horizon),
I rested a half-dozen times at least
To capture the yellow beast in its daily twilight ritual.
With my digital lasso, of course.
My own twilight ritual.

When only a narrow band of autumn-burnt orange remained,
The curious specter appeared.
Her bright venusian light
Dispersed into five sparkling diamonds
By my glassless eyes,
Appearing like a distant marquis, 
Called to me.

“Who are you?” I whispered in my heart.
“It’s me,” you replied.

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