Compostition of Intimacy
With fears of eternal solitude, I called truce.
Obstacles fill the atlas of our hearts,
distracting our impressions of exquisite Love.
Our painful beliefs insist we reprieve our minds,
voiding our previously learned doctrines of romance.
Phobias of Love furiously traveled the hourglass of our lives.
Chaos constrained our philosophy of enchantment,
Tuesday 1st December 2020 4:32 pm
My bed is still warm
When the next body rolls in
But I'm not
- Or his -
- Or hers -
And I can breathe
I am consumed
I am part of you,
Of someone that lives
I will be
Because I'm not apart
Just a part
Monday 16th December 2019 3:11 pm