You're beautiful, but you're not true.

you're beautiful, but you're not true.

lip-locked with a dream,
you tasted of moonlight.

a vibrato of the senses
once touched by the ethereal.

a song by the crackling fire,
and perfect obsidian sleep.

a lullaby scented of summer
and pine cones;
and of doors of rain.

but just like that,
you're beautiful, but you're not true.

----
conceptualised from fragments of Ginsberg, Aldiss and Gaiman; written during the journey between Pune and Mumbai.