It’s not as if past skies
didn’t offer the same
harmonious hue,
they’ve just taken on
a different meaning
sharing them with you.

Does it show?
Is it easy to see?
The way I focus
every single time you touch me.

The caress of your fingers,
the movement of your tongue.
Fixated on nothing else,
to the rest of the world,
numb.

It's as if in these moments,
time ceases to exist.
A black hole's event horizon
after every single kiss.

For years
you were the constant in my life.
My first touch in the morning
and my last each night.

Love is weird that way.

How at one time
someone's skin
can feel as familiar as our own
and yet today,
that contact
would feel unknown.

Your promises
are nothing more
than pretty little lies,
misleading words
cloaked in the most
clever disguise.

Break away
from this state of servitude.

You must find happiness
in your solitude.

another weekend,
story the same.

punishing our livers
for our hearts' mistakes.