We are the sunshine children
swimming in rainbow beams
shot across darkened roads.
like smoke.
but we cannot love with such purity.
after all, love is
not my spun-gold laugh
or your flax-woven tresses.
My love loves
you for what is,
but true love
loves for that that is darkness.
The inkwell's dried-up spot,
messiness and cruelty
stupidity
and hatred (every now and then).
i know nothing of flaws
for it is so hard to love them
and yet that must be.
born of sun, ignorant and blissfully so
we build up masonry of platinum bricks.
cemented with perfection.
walls
separating us from humanity
the further we get from fault.