“I’m reaping future memories where your pale flesh reflects like the moon. Soon, soon we will gain knowledge few have known. I like watching you trace it, taste it. I want you tucked in, deep down laying in layers like steep steps leading to the happiness you buried. We’re such beautiful burdens in three hour increments, but don’t forget, love is a dangerous threat.”
I like when you open the drawers of your guarded thoughts for me to ponder. Five years for our words to ring, to echo and loop as this place is so empty. The perfect backdrop for something important to be so beautifully underlined. These echoes louder now and unmistakably torturing us, taunting until we touch. What will that moment be like? Fleeting or repeating? You’re so careful with your words, so much so I wonder what words those words are hiding? I cannot and will not be shaken. There is no room to recoil words. To watch them wrap around themselves in serif nooses, tightening speech. You know I just say it. It’s after three now, a three hour increment, the aura we drink in. I introduce you to yourself over and over, but you’re still strangers to this day. I blindfold your shape and lead it down your layers, steep steps, running my fingers along the splintered rail. You shiver and tremble in the presence of despair akin to fingertips down the physical spine, preserving such beautiful form while carrying the weight of many worlds. Face the corner as I dig, dig a euphoria hole shaped in your silhouette. Portraits in the dirt, contouring your hurt. Trust me, you belong here, tucked in, deep down. I’ll lay with you and take your hand, fear gives way to trust. I’m not going anywhere, you finally understand.
