Don't Read This

Those who know where to look
Can tell that the walls are hollow
My angel
Despite all your efforts
to convince me otherwise
That they are as solid as they ever were
I can see the hairline fractures
like no one else can.

Smile for me my darling
That specific exquisite smile
It is tinged with the scent
Of the springs final blossom
Crunched underfoot
(I find it ironic how beauty
Is most poignant right after its massacre)

Laugh for me
My precious
That special laugh
The one you conjure up
From that faded grey plane
Where faith and desolation live
Side by side

They say that one gulp
From a special well
shall eternally cure us
Of all thirst
Its water (so cool so sweet so pure that it is sacred)
Drips from your eyes.