Chaorder

I opt for order

But love and beauty bring chaos.

So this vague, dizzy state of mind

Can be called chaorder -

Because I expect order and get chaos.

 

It's like a shower of burning sticks

That are thrown onto the transparent windows

Of my house

 

Or a raging mob by the door.

 

It's like a deluge of colours and sounds

After long months spent

In a bunker

Where you train for years

To stop your heartbeat

And lock your thoughts.

 

Each time love leads you to

chaorder -

Do your best to freeze it.