Blinding blues

Blinding blues

Fruits of memories,

On the branches, in the trees

Morning moon, a reminder

Of an unwanted tool, visible afar,

Handicapped love has gone to search

For a better retrouvailles;

It is soon to be blessed with a boon

Of euphemism;

On the other side, the setting free cliché

Is a struggling fish, crawling towards a pond nearby,

The sky is breaking apart,

The noise is out of place.

11 August 2014