Neon Carpet

 
I was born with a veil
over my face.  
It was fitting.  

I have loved
all the beautiful
dresses I have donned,

It was revealed to me
like a shot in the dark,

My city is like a sign,
hidden in the shrubs,
across the river;
this city dressed
in the finest neon.

In the evening, there are
strawberries on the hill,
I move through
this citadel as a priest,
finding them all
into the gleny morn. 

Oh my dearest life,
and gratitude
of this aurorean poet in love.