Darkness is my lover.

And then she smiled,
welcome the twilight she said,
for beauty ceases and darkness begins.

Who was I to tell her,
I wont be here 
when she is back,
Coz darkness is my lover,
'nd light mere distraction.

Sweet October Wine.- Free verse.

Her hair glistened in the evening sun, you ask, why not morning? 

She is not a morning person.

Her eyes in a fake squint.

Provocate, she does a stream.

A stream of surreal poetry.

Poetry for me.

Bland she is, she thinks.

Rhythm mine.

Young she is,

October sweet wine.