A maddening beauty

she expanded with weird angles

and before I could realize

she’d thrown up on my road

a truckload of shiny

iron pipe-joints
She was beautiful and huge and

dangerous: a gigantic red mouth opening in the sky.

And I stood, looking up

a tree waiting to be enveloped

by the balmy breath of spring

and the human destiny

of being changed by the seasons.
What would you do

if the girl you loved

was the size of your imagination

and the force of your will?

What would you do

if her presence was an ever-deceiving

pattern of the Unreal,

and passion for whom

flashed through your being

with the ferocious blindness of a lightning?
What would you do if your girl

was a philosophical puzzle

devised to tease the limits of your thought?

Which hurled the mind into a bottomless abyss

and asked to scale it with reason,

which dared the spirit to engulf a hall

enclosed by the bare walls of skies.
What would you do if your girl was a poem

which swelled in your breast like a yellow full moon?

And what would you do, if, when she spoke

she cut you into fragments which could never be made whole?
What would you do if the girl was a forest fire

blazing through the quiet winter of your night?

And what would you do if at the end of this blaze

dawn just wet like milk the teeth of what remained?

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