isn't it just like you
by Fran Carris

isn't it just like you
to fly tiny droplets of fire
into my so carefully woven fabric of control

to much, too fast
so brutally honest and
painfully desperate
riding high on transparent attraction

standing next to the Venus statue
I let the wind take my arms
and the moon take my color
and do not mourn the passing of an opportunity

content to feel beauty immortal
through half-closed eyelids
and smile-soaked brush strokes
sun-sparked canvas
and lazy fingers

enduring gazes
enlightened centuries
twisted torsos
enslaved in canon

yet - isn't it just like you
to make me wish
for a moment

that one was two
for just this night
in just this place
to crack the marble.

Illya's Honey Literary Journal

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