A twilit evening,
delightful and melancholic
Loomed to arrive as a decoy
When I began to strangle the beauty.
On an empty canvas
sprung a mid-day sun
Misplaced and bright with burning flames
Only to set fire to my hands.
Amused, beguiled
To a lonely and sorrowful street
I strayed on
To search for someone whose hands are on fire.
