If I swore to tell you
          (wild eyed and breathless)
of what lies
inside my pandora's box
    the blue velvet decaying
    under my flesh
          the whispers in my head
          like supple breeze
          through follow oaks
             (eerily adrift)

would you still dare hold me
at the dusty ledge
of this 85-storey high building
(my crumbling paper body)
as the concrete cracks
submissively
and the walls fall apart
instinctively

because
i would give up
the last of my flicker
to light
your final cigarette
and make
your lonely bed warm

If i held your echoing heart
                   in my hands   (with frantic devotion)
as it throbs rhythmically
in these fire brick palms
   propagating at a frequency
   of long found anxiety
a dim soul
trapped
in an antique olive wood clock
(tick tock tick)

would you dare still trust me
to dance
with those charred demons
(your most profound secrets)
the ones sworn to be
memories of disgust
the bad taste
at the back end
of your tongue
buried deeper in the Earth
for Hell to bare and hoard

because
i trust you
to embrace
the flaws we share
and
tears we didnt

(but most of all)

the discovery of our story
rapidly unfolding in this unashamed
polluted atmosphere