The Price of Friendship

They said friends can never be lovers. I couldn't believe you listened to them.

I am the perennial rust-colored dust,
Wafting in the stagnant ripples
Of your morning air,
And of the windy cool gust.

I am the glistening sanguine halo,
Around your miracle
And holy entity,
Though you force yourself not to know.

You are the deceitful thorned flower,
I chose to pick
Amidst hundreds of scentless chamomiles,
In this square garden of fame and power.

You are the deep vast ocean,
Whose horizon
Kisses my dark blue sky goodnight,
In surreal indifference to the love of man.

We are the odd heaven and earth,
Or wing and fin
Flying and swimming to each other,
Towards infinite periphery and girth.