Exiting highway 101 again....
Past Pacific Heights, to the Marina districts boulavard
Circling back towards the Palace of Fine Arts
An escape, after leaving the Tenderloins gentrificational neighborhoods
In the lines of questions; as I now gaze upon the oceans vast endless sea; tranquillity
Enchantings through this wistful window of these paragons; these dreams, of her once more
Feeling this heaviness upon this blue glazed heart although, still beating, unto her breath....
As this my soul has, for so long now it seems; longing to hold her within these arms of mine
Remembering, when I left a year ago; the bleeding from these veins of such, circumstance
Silhouettes of this night and day which, heaven would not allow myself to escape
Within the end, while as warm tears of lose filled these eyes, and I ask myself why?
Awakening to this new calenders end of May and, its shimmering silverish cresent moon....
Beyond the still silence of tricklings drops; forlorns blood red caverns; broken glassed walls
Pondering the difference it seems, since my return to this place; a tad bit hazier, somehow
Yet still I cannot escape this quintessence of love; which still loves her so, very deeply
Two spirits entwined upon this once upon a times, "Romeo & Juliets," tale of revised
Driving by the Mission Dolores earlier this day; such a reminder of, a time of faith....
This still beckoning light, amid profusions of taquerias and pupuserias and, solon de bellezas
Where again, I could see her beauty sitting within they, as I slowly drove by, a vibrant crowd
Visions of her smiles and echoes of her whispers, of love, so gently spoken
Which always seemed to capture my heart amid the days and the nights of, paradise again....
Always, as I pass by this Missions gates; gates of pristines pearls within this my minds eye
I leave her beauty a crimsons rose, dipped in the fragrance of a kiss upon the threshold
Of a Spring times door; when, two souls touched as one, and, space and time disappeared ~
Pulling into the parking structure of this gathering place of such fine arts
Reminded of Union Squares very own; where within Da Vinci, Picasso, Chagall and others
Histories pages, hang upon their golden gin blossomed galleries walls; silently speaking....
And there she is once more; with her beautiful milk chocolate eyes and soft rosen cheeks
Gazing at myself with her strawberries precious smile and, her shining auburn hair; knowing