lately you've been
between your veins and in-tricate threads of
a vision that she
she finds your tremors addicting and
your rhythm is a song playing
in the back of her mind.
you've found her hand
on her own chest
hoping that she is in tune with your
own heart beating. but your
beats per minute
counted down to zero a
when you entrapped her gaze
in your eyes,
and watched her
lips as words relished off her tongue;
speech was her creation and it flowed so
she traces her fingers down your spine,
to uncover all your secrets
she wants to know all of your imperfections,
wants to learn you
the way she's learned to breathe.
but you taught her how to forget to use
the air and instead place her hand
in yours to give herself a
new way to live
to give herself a new
pulse of life.
her beats per minute are slowly counting
down to nothing
as you took her breathe away as she did
she wants to be in tune with your heart
you counted down years ago.
lately she's noticing she's drifting further
away from your thoughts and pulled more
towards a memory
that your pace of love is slowing
and she is trembling, terrified of losing the one person
who's love for her was beyond others'
and they say ignorance is bliss.
[your love was so strong that it killed you
and now as yours did once, my beats per
minute count down to zero. ]
the graves are not filled with the
dead but the dreaming.
we let the streetlamps light
to have to imagine
the roads ahead
i let my
beyond the lights and
the back alleys,to stretch its own limits;
[into the dark, into the night.
in tenebris,in noctem]
and you'll become addicted to me,
more than the air you breathe.
|really though. can you understand my views?|
when death put its hand
on my shoulder,
i was already
i will starve myself
until my bones
wings.. then ill
ciar: dark/ little dark one. pronounced [kiy-r], or [see-air].
of irish/ gaelic origin.