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I make up
conversations
in my head
constructed from the
words you never
say.

I still can't decide
if silence
would be preferable.
Light up our backs,
bonfire,
burn,
burn us down
until we float
to the ground
as ashes,
ashen dust,
till death do we
ignite
the lives of those around
us
like city lights
or stars that
don't go out.
Outline.
Framed.
Posture
picture
perfect
Hanging
in this moment,
immortalised,
ageless,
free
like the flames
which lick
the velvet skin of
night,
engulfing our
shadows
as we stand
with our backs to the
stories
they told

- children
of the fire.
I can see myself
destroying
my own dignity,
popping it like
bubble-wrap
and watching as it
deflates
under my
forcible
fingertips.
Stretched out my
sight line
like a tripwire trying
to catch someone
off-guard
and you
wandered into it,

stumbled slightly,

yet still
I was the one
who fell.
His blue eyes are like glacial-lakes, wrapping around his heart till he's chilled to the bone from the cold.
A deadly place where treading is no longer permitted.
His eyes are transparent and distant as the impersonal clouds passing overhead.

Even as I stands before him, reflecting off him.
I am still merely a reflection.

He knows my face, I reason silently.
From the hills of my cheeks, down towards the valley separating my lips.

He should recognize it all.

Instead a blank expression greets me.    
A look of cold, solid insouciance.
I'm immediately angry with myself for wanting to justify his indifference's.

A reflex I've never been able to expel.
The vestigial limb on a skeleton.
A party favor from another time forgotten for the newly discovered toy.

I twist in the fridged winds wrapping around him.
My force giving under the great pressure magnified by his powers.

I never wanted to dance upon his breeze.
This realization makes me burn hotter.
My anger brighter than the northern star.

I welcome it, my amounting rage.
I embraces it with a raging smile.

His glaciers may be cold, immovable at times.
A pretentious notion I might freeze.

For I am the sun swirling in nova's ring and cannot be affected by his black iced personality.
Thick clouds of smoke billow from her mouth.
The taste of cigarettes and whiskey lingering on a pink tongue.
A woman-- With eyes of an angel
but a body of nothing as saintly.  
She beckons through the nebulous crowd.
Lips gleaming red from obvious sins.
Hips swaying ripened to a hypnotic beat.

Will you, (insert name here) go to her?
To indulge in her hidden desires?

A gentlemen of scholars, without a single dollar.

Will you, a man made of valor, rush to her?

Fighting it only makes the urge stronger.
Eternal darkness will never know an end;
the sinful devil in her tiny black mini dress.
She is a demon in nightmare form,
nefariously wrapped in silken weaved candy.

Her call is strong...
Her voice soft.
She beckons you;
   --will you fall?
"No." I beg of you.  For I've already sinned by far too much. Merely looking at you, touching your skin with only my eyes. Your face behind my closed lashes, trying to engrave your memory. Every freckle, every blemish, creases, lines or scars. I've sinned by far. My thoughts of you, circling within my brain, are not of innocent notions but powerful in our intimate devotions.

Please I beg of you... Take me backwards in slow motion. So, I might get to relive the moments. This time without emotion. To rewrite the blight upon our plight into our new separate life's...  

I beg, no more.
This town is crumbling.
With dust turning into ashes.
A judgmental life built
to the apparent lackluster rhyme.

Trembling lips, forced proximity.
Eyes on fire, the vile toxicity.


Trouble.
A simple motto to live by...
Mockery of shared stupidity.
Continually circling
to the timeless tune
of a love struck fool.

A fool, within the rubble.
A fool of love, scavenging for a heart.
A love-sick-fool, standing with empty arms.

Love, it can't be held together with gum found on the bottom of a shoe.
Nor can it survive with lies told by you.
The depletion of a beating heart, unimpeded to even start.
Down where the feelings concedes from the beginning.
Misleading as you succeed through the indubitable scheming.

Repeating; repeating; repeating -

The moments of despair
from first lips touch.
A taste of tongues,
the caress of skin.
Fighting words
till fists occurred.

The end draws nearer...
Every breath a guttural sound.
Elegant fingers of death,
wrapping around a pale neck.
(The bringer of demise.)
Here and now.

I don't understand how,
such a creature has come now,
at such a perfect interval,  
of space and time.
but
If I let you by,
I'm bound to lose my mind.

...
..
.
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