Love

The taste of a juicy peach
...wrapped in dreams of a rotting core

The triumph of victory's gold
...in delicate array with all losses

The smell of rain lifting to a new day
...mixed with car grease and tar

The image of soft, perfect loviliness
...jaded with horrid, appalling deformity

A heart that reaches to the inmost soul
...covered in wounds, that never will heal

Love seems too perfect at a bird's eye view
...fly a bit closer to see the real truth

Poetry