The Hanging of Misery

Create misery
with your eyes-
black eyes
which you decorate
with crimson blue
which you bought
in a packet from a shop
around the corner;
yes, I know it;
they all talk about you.

Create misery
with your eyes,
and hang it on a tree
for everyone to see –
a tree that has shed
its florouscent green leaves
to welcome you.

Do not put a black veil
on the face of misery;
we all see it
when we stand naked –
body and soul –
near the mirror.
After splashing cold water on the face,
misery glistens
like the snow-capped mountains
in the sunlight,
afar.
Misery,
is not unknown.

And when misery dies
a trembling death –
bleeding through its mouth,
it’s eyes popping out;
pop;
they fall out.
They roll off on the ground
where you once stood,
creating it with your eyes,
which you decorate
with crimson blue.

Misery is dying
a blind death.

Step on the eyes
that rolled off
with your foor
which you decorate
with cream coloured sandles.
Another pop!
The unattached eyeballs
lose its shape –
the fluids come out –
mixes with dirt;
soon, a crow will come
and pick them up.

And when misery dies,
we will rejoice
in its death.
Me and you;
I will kiss your black eyes
which you decorate
with crimson blue,
and take off
your cream coloured sandles
with my hands
which would now
be free
from wiping off
the glistening misery
on my face.

And then, my love,
we will make love.

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