When the blushing face of the sunset sky
kisses my cheeks with a gentle breeze
I hide my smile and remember to breathe.
Some things are too good to believe.
The sky doesn’t love me, it couldn’t possibly,
my eyes deceive me, and skies are blind.
Despite the way the morning sun stares down at me
demanding its daily sacrifice, and the scattered stars
glisten like the teardrops of merciful angels at night,
I tell myself it’s just a trick of the light.
frequency and amplitude conspiring,
my electrified brain misfiring.
Flowers fading by the second above me,
I say goodbye to the blooming sky,
unlock the front door, and step inside.
Sorry Sunset, I have a wife.
Maybe in another lifetime
we could fly.
