Maliciously backpedaling, every ripple of pain is a direct puncture.
This tirade is short lived, even before I see the light.
We’ll be fine, for the reflection off your pearly whites,
Gives and ambiguous notion of assurance that serenades my emotions.

To an extent, I rejoice that this distance fills the void,
For weighing us both down would be sinful.
But there is no silicone strong enough to fill every hold.
And this is why my apology rings even louder.

Like a setting sun on the Long Island Sound,
Our harmony asserts superior beauty,
Or a mirror image of what happiness is to be scripted,
Only our act in this Broadway still awaits.

Taps reminds me of our fragile wall,
But doesn’t cover my emotional Spouts.
Stubborn at times, and never with warning,
You’re ruthless, yet gracious, explosion remains unseen.

I long for the opportunity, where this violent
Number reaps no fallout and instead translates to love.
A world where pugnacious affection is welcomed,
We battle with only the weapons of fidelity.

Clinging to comfort, fearing abandonment,
Who dares the self-empowering act of separation?
In what position do you conclude your
Worthiness to reign supreme in such fertile moments?

Rhetorical of course, for a physical battle is but absent,
‘Tis only a tacit exchange of venom between two souls.
Always present, but selective with its encounters,
I wait not for your presence, and sleep consciously eager.

And that who equivocates tear drops with victories,
You subsequently turn hand when we conjoin.
When moments turn into years, I ask only for more.
How audacious to criticize your offerings am I.