If you only knew me any better,
my scars you would see...
soaked in lies as a shelter,
teasing you to rescue me...

You wanted to nurse my song, they said...
But my music you denied to listen!
Are you poison? Was it pride?
Or It was just my bruised intuition?

Your eyes... fatal swords...
Did lacerate my haunted bloodstream,
But the eternal stares and stolen smiles...
I treasure when I dream.

If I only knew you any better...
your swords I would understand...
Your fears and deep sores I would heal,
with a tickle in your hand.


© Christina Philipe