blue on black
i appeared in front of you naked as my gaze's color; (how blue can you get...) i left you to lure my mind with hope and joy of days; each day became (today) created mentally, (salut...), it metamorphosed itself into topic ᵀᴼDʳᵉᵃᵐAᵇᵒᵘᵗYᵒᵘ‧‧‧ sunrises were lune-poems, noons were flash fiction, nights, a story in six-words masterminded by music from season to season love played its game well (nor friends), (nor lovers), as Mystique, as Mysterio, we acted... as characters we've frenglishly... deeply, we paid in smiley coins and we ended as we started... two of us, blue on black, playing “truth is like poetry even if most folks hate it”