The unspoiled

In your face, I saw a canvas-

embroidered and flashy,

fetching and ugly

the beholder in me, amazed at a sight variation!
in a counterfeiting reality.
yet I loved you,
for there was no one else to love in that desert,

for I respected Tolstoy

for I needed a world to live in

What deceived me?

suddenly you were Venus
your eyes, two moons-
sifting and poring over
hypnotizing, capable of abrading the variation
You were a beauty.

Does sense still play in the hypnotism?

If not, why I wanted you intact, unbruised

How come the humbleness, deftness!

Why didn’t I dip into you?

Why did I stare you into eternity?