Almost A Lover
Almost A Lover
The hot air almost melted
The mystery my eyes had.
The black ball diffused
Into the almost pale white.
The trenches almost lost
Gravity sunken in the Kohl.
The shade has come out
As an almost grey as faded.
The nooks have stored an
Almost rear view of love.
The gloss they once had
Has almost lost to patina.
The shrill has almost been
Still to the closure of yours.
The bulge aspires now for
Almost a frozen nerve network.
The pigments have almost
Justified the broken dreams.
The nightmares now remain
As an almost duplicate of
Your gaze you once
Cast the spell with.
The winds have to slow down
For the rhetoric to come to rest.
Else it'll be an almost matter
Of seasons and the seasons
Here of love never are on their best.
I worry, if the heat this summer
Melts another part.
Because it's an almost tie
Between the head and the heart.
The ligaments almost are afraid
To die for the binding fluid has
Run out of the oxygen supply.
The ears this time needs most
Of the care for the exposure
Love brings affects the sound
Of my breath through your air.
The dispersion should never
Get its victim I pray, for your
Colors are a mix of lies and play.
You're an almost set of
Infinite senses and I'm an
Almost a loser of them.
And if you agree to be the
Heatwaves this summer,
I'd have become a lover
Of the sand shapes then.