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.