our bodies a carnival of mismatched why
the curves of a whisper, the strength of a sigh
they merge in a dance, trompe l'oeil meets the sky
no labels fit no definitions hold
we are free to invent the rules of the fold
with every step our shadows multiply
we chase the echoes of a surrendered reply
in the androgynous abyss there is delight
a space for contrast to become light
Aug 30, 2025
Aug 30, 2025 at 3:50 PM UTC
our bodies a carnival of mismatched why
the curves of a whisper, the strength of a sigh
they merge in a dance, trompe l'oeil meets the sky
no labels fit no definitions hold
we are free to invent the rules of the fold
with every step our shadows multiply
we chase the echoes of a surrendered reply
in the androgynous abyss there is delight
a space for contrast to become light
