The rain in the air falls like strained whispers.
The pebbled ground under my feet tingles from each single contact made
With every cloud’s tear-release.
The cold that chokes the outer world
Pushes us closer together,
As if we are two caterpillars,
Whom for the sake of warmth join
In one singular silk-thread cocoon.
I can feel a thousand invisible hands
Against my back, nudging me closer.
Your hands are holding my face;
They are so soft and sure,
These must be the hands of an angel.
Your angel’s palm on my skin
Spreads a blush over my face,
A blush that I alone feel
And the night’s dark alone sees.
Or can you feel the heat?
Space and seconds materialize away…away…
Now both our mouths taste one another's saliva.
Moister takes over the dryness that was, in that space before.
Between your angel’s palms,
Between your lips,
Between the cold that envelopes this cocoon of perfection,
I am a diamond tear that in the space of something never known,
Has no wish, no thought or desire.
I am a diamond tear,
Between your angel’s palms and lips.