Paintings Of You (Chapter One) Poem by A Waltz For Zizi

The living art of her, unbound by love or hate,
brought me amazing memories, beside that pillowless dream,
where I eat pieces of moon in the morning.
It was Juliet and the Beast of Beasts
growing diamonds on their infinite fields
where the ground is made of blue paint
and the white trees, spiral towards the sun's core
like the fanatic fruits from those fantastic paints you make.
They're more like drawings, but who cares about the stars when they've been blinded by the sun.
I keep in my right pocket, a trail of kisses
to take me to the incandescent place of sins
the altar of love, and empty bed of my poetry of you.
When you ask me what I want to become,
I don't say anything, because I can't see that far,
beyond your white and freckled beauty,
my eyes refuse to look, for they are caught in the gravity of you, just like everyone else.
The jellous part of me is ok, I know I can't jail you here.
I've loosen my embrace, and It's up to you now, to go.