I lift my arms while the wind’s force reckons through, did you sleep while I dreamt away from you?
There isn’t a place so safe while the clouds rage on, do you see me fade till the sun is gone?
And I worry, that there is none, when your tears taste so bitter, the touch of my tongue.
Feel me break away, darkness swoons, petals fall, seeds begin again, the night rages on, do you fear the sun, is the black our tomb, the flower coldly blooms.
It’s not safe while the winds rage on, all these years, where has the time gone?
And you look at me, when there’s something left to breathe, just hold me, it’s a place where dread causally weaves.
It pushes through the clouds, I said it’ll pass, but the clouds cover my eyes, it’ll always last.
I feel it rage on, you know I’m gone.
Is it what you always hold, do I fear that cold?
Descriptions in my room slowly crawl, a locked door behind a see through wall.
I can feel the air push out against me, a swift scent of karma, truth kisses and lips tease.
Tied around this chemistry of love compounds, does regret always make the same woeful sounds?
And you were here, laid out on a knife, the glass room shows us the reeling sky.
I want a place to hide, a home of untraceable lies, but reality doesn’t like our hopeful goodbyes.
Witness as the roaring winds strangle me, the senses twisted by my inefficiencies.
Let us slip into the mild open seas.
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You know you make me.
I know you break me.
The character of love isn’t a pawn, no, you will never change, midnight till dawn.
A place where you comprise my little needs.
Molding the clay while I wish for sleep, building an undesired bowl it seems to me.
Spill water inside.
Holes and cracks.
Do you see?
No matter where I go, you pryingly always know.
Lessons of a mind, buried deep, confusion, seclusion, animosity at your feet.
Where in your head do you nod at this immorality, my own human right isn’t your emotional practicality.
It wasn’t mean to be.
Reasons and days spill hearted desires, flipping light switches when my shop opens to the custom buyers.
I wouldn’t notice a line drawn or a cup tipping, can I sell antiques when the vase caring water starts dripping?
Does it bother you when I kiss your smile, wiping tears when water hits my tiles.
Female features distract my gaze by the flowers, do you think a needle hides within a caving hay tower?
Guilt or truth, it’s all just hidden in my concealed lips, bronze cups breeze cool winds when you gently sip.
Playing out before me while a clock narrows a minute one from three, bashful hours always leap into the mild flirtatious sea.
Come and look over my shoulder when books dream, their vintage ink drips past a worn out seam.
Lessons of a mirror, buried in a wall, fellow men purchase items that speak rhythms of a call.
Quiet your curious mind and sleep where the bed did lay, antique shop lingers perhaps a moment, in a day.
Sky blue is a color I describe, two and one are the numbers she abides by.
Little sighs, a scarlet tune, her eyes are like the pale white moon.
I never would do anything to you, their won’t be an addition past loving two.
Holding you in a space of marble pink, it doesn’t mean I’ve lost the ability to humbly think.
Flowers sprout easier in this growing sunlight, even in the dark, petals glow past a fading night.
Her touch breathes life like the unseen air, colored strands of her distinctive hair.
Dear Lisa do you think I love you?