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Makeshift Moonlight
August 19, 2018
The trick is in the passion
aloud in gloaming
and neon irises
manifested when eyelids lift
and the beams
from lasers of adoration
slashing the shadows.
The glow is in your caverns
where the strings
in your heart
put violas to shame
and an opal aorta arching
like the Arc de Triomphe
maintains your soul with mine.
Our love is on the clock.
© Chyi-Dean S., North Tustin, CA
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This piece was a challenge for myself to increase my use of imagery, and I think I've succeeded. I was considering making this longer, but after reading it over I felt satisfied with the message it conveyed. Not to mention I love the glowy stuff in this. Yes, this poem is for someone, but heck, I don't need to establish who every time. I hope people enjoy this (and maybe catch on to some symbolism?) Au revoir!