Floating dreams upon this barren mattress –
Attempting to revive their hues, painting a vivid live caption
Sinking into the glow of a smile; I hope my faith will catch me
The drum roars of a heartbeat, anxious- still my soul is dancing
Two skins caught in themselves- kissing in a moment’s magic
Allow me to wish upon a star my love, that this sensation is everlasting.

Time: with its relentless grasp tightening around me, like the
unyielding force of gravity — anchors me in place. I aspire to
embrace aging with grace. I sense the encroachment of greys;
those emerging silver strands blend into the horizon of new days.

Isn’t life so strange; contradiction: we know of it like a friend, even
while it can turn adversarial until the end. Shifting seamlessly
between ally and adversary, these moments of joy and sorrow;
exalting in its beauty even as it envelops us in its enigmatic embrace?

So profound in depth and meaning, a symphony of paradoxes
harmonizing into the melody of our journey. I only aspire to embrace
aging with grace, oh what a shame — we move forward, embracing
the uncertainty with grace, as time continues its ceaseless march.
A steadfast friend from the break of day, an adversary until the sun
sets.

This love is the universe reflected in your tears – universal smiles
we’d savour beneath the sheets; you offered a fragment of your
soul, while I surrendered a piece of me. Even in your absence,
you haunt me in my quiet dreams – how do I even try to sleep,
without you lying next to me?

A belief in the silent secrets carried in your breath, lying to me;
an elephant in the room; so hard to forget all the space it takes
thinking about you. My gaze is drawn to you – I am merely a
pencil sketching on your body’s canvas. Filling my mind with
oceans, drowning me in your skin- departing too quickly, I start
to feel so blue.

I loathe to confess just how deeply I worship you. Such a false
goddess; still I find myself resting down these offerings of my
heart, to lift you highly.

Falling in love; well at least falling for the person- the narrative
of our love, a romance narrated from a distance — seen in third
person. You’re the third person I find myself whispering, “I love
you,” sharing so much about myself, sharing so much that it
aches to be so personal.

Sometimes my words disappear under your breath; I’m fading
away, and not feeling as myself; no longer existing as a person-
impersonal.

I catch glimpses of uncertainty in your eyes, and I sense that my
many personalities can be overwhelming- please don’t take it so
personal. You sometimes feel diminished in their presence, as if
you’re non-personal

Yet, as the day draws to a close, my greatest desire remains:
to know you deeply and to call you, my person.

You cherish me merely as a coin — always anticipating change,
you seek me out only when it’s time for heads, chasing after tail.
I’ve been tossed about by you countless times; my feet now bear
the weight of my head. Say you love to call me, “mine,” yet
you handle me like a mere dime tucked away in your pocket –
only reaching for me when your hands are empty of anything
else to own- and pass me around like a debt you owe.

Beloved, your touch is far chillier than all the jealousy that
exists in this world. I'm just a cold coin to you.

Swimming in pink, oh the blush of tears — as you tear me away
from my original nesting; a petal ripped away from their mother
flower. Watch closely as I fall to the ground, unloved- as you
softly murmur your melody of, “he loves me, he loves me not”

Sweetheart, it’s painfully clear that your heart holds no
affection for me whatsoever. You love to let me down.