you have always been a mystery.
how your voice,
that trembles and deceives,
set me in motion
as you whisper.
and the gold and amber light
that shines through the shadow
where our dark secrets lay,
accentuates your eyes
that led me to surrender.
the feel of your wings
comforts and stirs me
as it glide at the touch of our skin;
causing my hair to rise and [...]

our words flourish, abstract
like inkblots - insinuating,
teasing and flirting,
almost illogical,
drawing lines
and fancy
curves
over and
beyond the norms.
and it goes on and on
until we wake up and realize that
we only have those words to connect us.
pretty soon, we’ll take them for what they are.

for countless times
you have moved against that same surface
soothing, at times abrasive
but always cold and soulless
to the touch.
for countless times
your echoes have resonated
whenever you seep through;
and each time you pull back,
you
unknowingly [perhaps not]
break,
take tiny fragments,
erode pieces,
bit
by
bit.
For countless times
You’ll do this again and
again and
again
until there is barely enough left
that wholeness can never be restored.