Love or Devotion?

Your devotional candour has
carved an astronomical ripple of
poetry in my soul,
wrapped in star dust,
sweeping me off my place
in the world and enhancing
my vision into divinity.
Enriching my afternoons
like a blanket rescuing me
from those sharp shivers
whispering into the soft nights
as I run behind the passage of time,
wondering where it went,
when drudging through those
monotonous roads became easy,
when our ties with the world
opened up and turned into
sparkling confetti showering
upon us, making us giggle.

My swarthy beloved,
I won't let myself be swept
by these glances, won't let
my traces be snatched away
by this intoxication,
the night of the prophet's
celebration has dawned
into the hues of the slave's
dying heart,
enchanting eyes taking a
radiant stride through the
walls of my essence.

Carve onto my destiny
a hope for zest,
what will the world chant
as it breathes a shadow of
monsters onto my puddles
of endeavour
not one has walked away
empty handed from?
Questions ever added to my
wandering, foolish curiosity,
like another piece of tetris building
a wall to finally slam through, a
lucidity to my reverie, clear
stream of water rushing in,
cupid breaking through that
concrete, hollow shell,
wishes making their way
to the moon;

let me have this flight of
imagination like devotion to a lover
playing the game of glances,
let a poet have his moment.