Surgically precise,
the wound splits open, spilling infinity—
a sea without shores,
a secret tide drawn to you,
even as you slip into shadows,
even as you hide.

No guilt here.
This love is raw,
tender and savage,
marking its place like an animal,
teeth bared, claws carving
territory into flesh.

It’s a secret affair,
a slow destruction.
The unknown swallows us whole,
pulls us under where Adonis waits—
child of adultery,
questioning the myths
that made him beautiful
and broken.

She wore an agate gaze, flawless,
dreaming in shades of gold,
feathered wings brushing her
like promises too soft to believe.
He shaped her,
molding her chaos into quiet flame.

Hesitations—
lost in the echoes,
identity adrift like smoke.
We halt, we fold inward,
bruised and aching,
carrying our scars
like riddles in the dark.

Always,
a kiss goodbye,
a whisper that lingers,
a fleeting touch of the divine
before it’s gone.