This is where we cross paths
Is it meant to be?
When you speak the hooks sink deeper
Echoings inside of me

Eyes of pure desire
Masked by double-meanings
I saw her say she loves me
But I was only dreaming

I will light your house on fire
If you do not give me your name
I trace the length of your fingers
The grace of hips leave me insane

I still do not dare touch you
Your coy smile slipping on and off
Your words hint at love and grandeur
The joy of simple life

As if the Norns have snipped a thread
Bony fingers knot us together
I feel the hands of fate
Upon the tapestry eternal
Vibrations I know you must feel
Vibrations I know you feel

No more time for pain.
Tear stains.
Or sobs.
Shrieks at the top of your lungs!
Frustrated fidgeting,
Or furious dialect.
The true depths of sorrow,
unreached yet,
Shall remain unexplored.

The heights of fury and rage,
Shall be another days venture.
(Or hopefully never).

Visions of disliked visages,
Traitorous touches torturing the thoughts,
Lustily leaving lover and friend
Twitching,
Writhing,
Boiling,
Melting,
Rotting,
And congealing into a puddle of humanity
at the knowledge of their philandering.  

Numbness sinks through the dermis,
Hiding hints of heartbeats,
Silencing skins sweet sensations.
Breathing,
But barely.

No time for sensation,
Emotion,
Expression,
Interest,
Thought,
Muttering,
Mentioning,
M­urmuring,
Meditating.

Reform some semblance of humanity.
No time for languishing,
Luridly,
Lethargically,
Liquefying.

Only enough time for a little poetry.
And then,
Hopefully,
Life.