Image: Painting © Anete Mezaraupa
Author: Edgars Mezaraup
Arousing shapes in disco shades
Tempt my eye and shake my mind,
Still I sit and still I languish
For the crimson red and, yes,
I don’t think.
I never think of you
I only dream of you,
Sweet as a sweet dream
To where the mushrooms grow
I shall go
Forget the world as it is.
Too much of imbecile is being done
Too many a hope – forlorn.
Naught but red flows in the heart,
Naught but red on the lips and puffy eyes
Make me lost.
Truly, if cuteness something means, it means
Those little clouds when you smile.