Curfew outside my existence. 

Everyone trying to find their love today…

Communism… capitalism…every political dilemma is pierced…

But they will meet…they have to meet…

When this world has succeeded in departing lovers from their entwined guts? 

They will come over the barricades and they will sing Lennon in chorus. 

I can see there’s a ball in between those flamed gunpowders…it must be some kid’s, 

the red one lying there with open eyes and waiting to be owned. 

Lover’s will come on purple evenings of blatant emotions. 

Still the fierce affairs make me believe in something.

…………………………………………………………………..

Painting: Billie Rae Busby.