It seems I, officially, have a new style. I blame puberty. And Australians. Damn Australians.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Love

You're perfect again, my love,
without your thoughts. All gone, drained
away with the red
in your lips, so soft and blue
like our love, our love
in the tender summer breeze gingerly
suffocating. And at times it seemed your
fingertips threatened to resuscitate
my soul –
In me you hid your stars, golden and
dying. They're green, again, looking,
gazing, why won't they waver? Ripple
as though they could reflect –
My sadness is perfect,
just like your words.
For you were never as lovely or –
White, so white and pure, as though purely
unnatural. And our love, wouldn't
you say it is –
was so artificial my darling,
my dear, my peaceful
soulmate? Breathe, why don't you
breathe, take your last breath
away from me? Deny
my lips their atrocious treasure, my heart
its redeeming ache.
For our love,
It was beautiful.
So beautiful,
My love.