CPoetry

why does love disparage me still? in my feeble attempts to unveil more truths possessed to its name, love contends to make yet another mockery of one of its children. my ego---lapsed from the embrace of its being. why does love disparage me still? ::: the young girl who is Dawn, she holds in her bosom the stillness of Night and the light of Hope's infantile fortune. ::: i cannot think how helpless i am in my defense against this moment... the waiter is whistling to himself in this diner, and i am hopeless against deafening his song; the moment takes me along the folds of his tongue with what carries across his lips. so suddenly, i have returned to the present; it recognizes me like an old friend. ::: amid the ceaseless flexing and partitioning of spacetime, i was approached by a star. this star held in her face the violence of the Big Bang, and the serenity of illuminated resilience. long ago did she escape the safe asylum of the nebula to bare witness to the debauchery of the univ