
SunsetThe sun was sinking, and so with hurried claws it ripped apart its former lover. The sky did not scream in pain, yet stood, passive and unreachable as its volume was torn twain by its owner and mistress. Every night, as the horizon reclaims it the sun is stolen from its lover, the sky, yet the sky has ever been in a hating tryst with the stable ground, and so simply for its invading love it stands by. It allows itself to be ripped, and its blood colors quick the clouds. Pink, orange, saffron, grey - and deeper still green in the sunset. Green is jealousy, it is greed, but it is also life. And so, finally, the spurned lover sun will fall beneaSunset by ~bonbinilily