Coups de Foudre Those eyes you fall for, Those hasty sparks of enchanctment. Unfettered beams are wistfully stolen, Obsidan embers, tranced and swollen. Each dash of flame aches and burns me, love. Be sure, be able, to judge myth from fable, Nor rashly deem her, a foolish dreamer, Whose joy hangs on the whim of misdemeanor. Wrangling your demons withers the soul, love. Faded photographs, pixellated wounds, To weeping sighs that long for the past. The phantom of him that swoon'd Seemed to glide amongst stars. 'Steadfast. Unwavering'. How I long to feel safe once more, love. But we all must wake up, fraught with reality, We sink in sorrow. Tight lipped smiles, Brushing crystallized stains from withered cheeks, Remaining irresolute and painfully weak, Damn the fairytales, damn petalled aisles. Yet still to sleep and dream, To lay once more in my lovers arms. To watch the present fade at last, And look upon the past once more, And say 'hello' to Those eyes you fell for. 6th May 2016