There was a liquid secreting from the cracks in your lips,
Something like justice, something like idealism
The two combined within your vociferous skins and
Coated me clean
And I was who you wanted me to be
Our eyes shut and our fingertips grasping,
We held each other inside of our roles
Without giving any thought to the figure we were
Sculpting
Into us

And your eyes are painted on.
The feathers adhere to the side of your face,
Coated in a foundation, with layers of sparkles,
That lead to a cosmic undertone
But there is nothing there
You are an optical illusion
You care for light
And it shines from your darkness
The deepened tunnels in your eyes
Are empty holes
Don’t go down
If you can’t see the bottom
If the flashlight illuminates nothing
Take two steps back
Two more blinks
Two more kisses
“Besoin, besoin”
And away we will drift