A two-toned
Budding love
Where the two
Want nothing
But the best life
For the other

A fortified
Construction
In silence
We tarry ourselves
With rose petals
Kisses
One another's sweat
Rarely tears

Before as two
There was no high noon
There was no midnight
Time was a construct
Of the manipulation of the justification
Of solitude

I am I
No more
I have
Once again
Given myself over

How afraid I am
Of my willingness,
My readiness but,
How natural it all feels

How right
How true
How I feel

More like myself
Than I ever have

And if it were to end tomorrow
Be it in the sky
Or on a walk along the Seine
Or the train north to Como

Who would I be then?

Would I be stepping backward?

Of course not

Impossible

There are only
The same bad habits
The same self-fulling prophecies
The identical tour-de-force
Of self-sabotage
I've met time and time
Before and after and then before

All over again.

See the mirror
Look in thine eye
I am I
Always

Swayed only from that path
From chaos's misfortune or
It's opulence