Sick of it all to the point of being worn out.
My heart is dulled.
Ever since the last I’ve had doubt.
Love has been the only thing over mulled
until today when I saw the dove flying aloft.
The storm clouds and winds flee.
The hard room goes soft.
My savior I see.
Aphrodite moves in, shrouded by a radiant light,
more beautiful than an aureole of heaven.
Even across the distance she makes a sight
from inside of the 7-11.
Oh, the kicker?
She is not alone.
A guy (who looks like he’s been peeled off a bumber sticker)
Is in there with her talking on the phone.
I wish I were Hephaetus,
a patron of his handicraft.
Erupting the volcanoes while working in my forge to quench my lust.
But I’m being daft.
I cannot be him in wanting.
My charm will have to make up for what I’m missing.
But with him right there
Would it be wise if I moved from here?
I’ll go were ever an unlocked door takes me.
So why do I care if it’s wise?
Life goes by slow without love.
It moves along disguised.
It’s up to you to find it hiding in the dove.
I’m not shying away from even the smallest chance.
I have again found “first sight love”.
It’s time to dance.
(I’m not losing her again.)