The irony.

by Somethinger

May distance remain distant,
May hope stay hopeful.
May expectations of the me you think I am never shatter in your eyes
I am a liar anyway.

May we make love
To the ideas of each other’s body –
Scents of our imagination lighting our need.
May the calamity never strike
Of you having to see my deformities
And me having to squirm at your scars
Some truths are unnecessary.

May we match the meanings of words
And their tone that we write them in.
And never have to share.
May the cacophony of your baritone with the uncouth laughter in my voice
Never reach an ear that ever hopes to love.
It will only wither.

May we fall asleep in imaginary warmth
You in my curls, me in your arms
Pillows are nothing but solidified dreams
And we know better than anyone else
What it is like to want to drift to slumber without a finger to caress your forehead.

Let ignorance prevail. Let us never know light.
And other trivial things that lie beyond the mirage.
We are but liars.
In a world that gloats in its disdainful reality.

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