Confessions to a Valent Eye

Everything ‘s sacred
unless you close your eyes
The clouds are guardian angels in disguise
the falling stars – my unbreakable vows to you
cascading over a flawless past like a Jurnip interlude.
Awakeness makes promises - unlike rules – easy to keep,
pampered and cuddled in this honesty excess
whose warranty assures unique reliability
provided the way “I love you” is not a cliché;
Thanks to your Guinness -Book -worth fidelity
there are no side effects, no expiration date
and no returning options on this delivery ;
like a translator
mastering a catalyst stream of cathartic metaphors
hidden behind their undeniably therapeutic scent
I am not a traitor if I let my own senses intervene
demanding them to stay unquoted on each continent.
I reserved the right to imperfection,
the prerogative to disappoint you
long ago
when the Hegelian seeds of contradiction
were planted by the ocean’s shore.
While synchronizing the time in both our world zones ,
I am converting some insufficient minerals and unpolished secrets
into Valentine precious stones.

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