You, My Dear

you my dear, my dearest, are not mine; nobody’s but yours. you my love , know this, are not good looking, for the good loses to the superlative, and the comparative surpasses it; you, are a carnival of beauty. you are not a wild boy’s craving or a broken man’s trance, but my getaway, my escape from my rational being. you are not young, for you will never be old; not the fountain of youth; you, holy fuck, are my definition of ecstasy. I shall always, always keep you close, for you, my darling, please my equation of constants. also, know this, poor dear, you might never know, you were the you, for sometimes, there is agony in being mindful, and elation in absence. and in the beginning of the end, at the triumph of the space-time blend, i hope, yes i still hope, that the puppet of fate, chooses the concealed.

©Mayan, March 5th, 2017