you are the toska breeding in me like vicious flowers cannas perhaps lotus or bleeding hearts haunting the excruciating longing in my sinking chest a calming and white haunting
I hear a thud in the middle of my body and it seems that my heart levels itself in between my dimmed ribs so that it may nervously burst in my core to let that beautiful yellow childlike sun into my body
what am I without you, a weltering raindrop on top of a dark wooden roof falling into the rustic mud while nobody is watching being absorbed into the earth while nobody cares
when I spoke my voice was hallow and now you fill my speech and the streaks of tunes from my neck like a starving man who by the grace of God has been blessed with the feast of kings and queens
the phantom artist of something like a never ending dream the gentle spirit the serene incubus
you daydreamer of withering beauty heartless and genuine I rest my smile upon your spine I suffocate into your talent of a deep and barren like litost
your calm ocean as mine filled with creatures only our imaginations can begin to decipher a tender arena of hearts and fowl play you have taught me more about myself I am bathing in beauty drowning in a glorifying deep silk
I would bring my last weeping words in a coffin with dark and rich embroidery resembling that of your driven eyes for a simple brush of your hand upon my cheek