your love for me is misunderstood.
intrinsically flawed. I am not "light"
as you so, shrewdly put it. I said
(to your face like a peacock)
"I am a mad poet." and you seemed
to think that means nothing.
are you assuming you met the true me already?
she has not brushed the surface of your eyes!
(you do not see her). she is immaculate.
stardust all the way. she lied to you
about the dream you liked so well.
(she never saw you as a captain that saved
wayward sailors.) she told you that
because she knew you would love her for it.
a cunning linguist is she! a real queen bee.
and I don't think you could love her.