Early Morning Sun
06/04 2023
Feel the early wrinkles on your face
In the rays of the early morning sun.
Gaze into the marble cracks in the mirror,
And envy the people sleeping comfortably alone.
Feel the heat emanating from early debts.
Go down with the rest of the sailors
Who just want to get back home.
On the face which disappears forever,
Before it could ever appear in your dreams,
See it written in an uncertain expression,
See it written in the way they point and smile,
Cupid shoots his arrow, who am I to comment his aim?
It is time to go to sleep after all.
Creamed filled pastries,
And perfectly brewed tea.
How she dreams herself onto London fields,
Amis can't even undo what has been done
Through a gentle, discriminating pen,
Which tells the story of the pragmatic,
Not to mention the brave.
In silence watch the coffee brew,
How it sputters, how it mutters.
How such loneliness could exist
With this sun shining on your face.
Don't reflect on it, you might lose it;
That crooked smile,
That starlight shining,
That heartbeat fluttering.
Dip your toes in the ocean,
And look at the boat in the horizon,
The blood, how it tries to catch up.
In one scribble of the pen
The damage had already been done.
Gently passing over the water the captain sighed,
The horizon grew, North and South switched place.
Night turned to moments of retrospection.
Beauty a reality and not a dream.
It is what I always try to understand,
That fire which remains a fire,
No matter how much I try to bury it.