Lovely as You Are

You said you will not come, you only looked at the fluffy clouds with your loving gaze at my prying eyes to tell you that had been you alive for a few more nights just to say goodbye to our long past which had its share in an economy of history of present continuous tense of sparsely integrated time and space, the present still lingering on to the future perfect spreading all over the space, labyrinth of time...

Of the future perfect, the fluffy clouds bearing the child of immaculate conception to gather in storms of rain for the good harvest of defining love and angular vision of truth subdued in pristine beauty, I just wait awhile for something hot and happening in the wonderful sky to percolate through the facade of what you say when you come and when you come not, I never sway back to my self, and my only being...

Come rain or sunshine, you come or not as lovely as you are, to subjugate me in umbilical shadows of shackles lengthening upon the past perfect, I cry out at you to lift your mystic veil for the morrow, you fall at your own feet like a sparrow with broken wings to free yourself from the halcyon moods that change with the change of season and the rain comes but you come not, as lovely as you are, as you always are...