smiling is the world's language,
expressive joy and happiness.
when you look at me,
do you see the same ecstasy
or a sad masquerade, a
powerful distraction
so nobody notices the
swelling of water, the
forgotten reservoir
of my boyish eyes.
staring at the window
following the southerly journey
of a solitary raindrop,
they always fall down.
has it ever occurred
to that big yellow brain
that my smile is as
plastic
as the white window frame
wet with smashed dreams.
it gets you wondering whether
other supposed beauty
is nothing but a brick wall
hiding a heart of stone.
passion is nothing
love is lust
love is dust
perhaps even beneath
your disgustingly incessant
lovely prettiness
there is a vacuum
and my aching desire
is nothing
but fallacy,
sweet fallacy.
