Write Me A Poem (VIII): Ruby

WRITE ME A POEM (VIII): RUBY

she calls me ruby,
like the fluid of life that run her veins,
she said I am precious stone
on which the foundation of her heart is laid

she calls me ruby,
the jewel that gunned her down,
drew her eyes, heart, to it's glistering goodness,
and pegged her to affections deep.
do you think that arrow is the shooter?
doth not the bow play a role assigned it by the arm that pulled orchestrated the shot?

she calls me ruby,
the hand that trained the bow to carve out a map to her heart,
the tomb raider that smashed her defense walls with words wrist from her marrows - every drop evapourates -
the jeweler who made a smuttier mesh of tingly symphonies echo in her ears.

she calls me ruby,
the fountain of love sprayed around the room,
creating a mosaic of retro blues,

but

her ruby follow the faint pathway of unsung songs,
contouring into a silhouette in a desert sun,
dancing the left-to-right wave of goodbyes,
up the heights, down the lows,
flash like lights, fading glow,
till she can't look anymore,
tears her eyes did blur

she called me ruby
but before she could glare into my own ruby red eyes,
she made me blue with constant nags

ediye mmi, 

write me a poem about love on first goodbyes

#WriteMeAPoem
#Pengician #SSA