Somewhere between the gutter & the stars

Oldie but goldie, Poetry

She puts colours in my eyes
With the sweet palette of her wiles,
Share dreams, hopes & lies,
Makes me fly over miles.
Yet, I remain,
As insanity makes her cry
Out for her singed wings,
Not for the golden things,
Her jilted suitor brings,
To make her dancing feet sing
To the sweet beat of a lie,
& somewhere between the gutter
& the stars, linger I.

5/9/MMVI

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