Love That Borders Divine

the brilliance, the flame, the rollercoaster; to see you in silk, seducing death, as gorgeous as the unseen; we await the volume, permeated with silence, to hold you in trembling arms. the eclipse of gestures—the furnace of features, but a fever to a mortal; where gods watch, to ravish the goddess, as torn as diplomats. there was never such fire, as sultry as beauty, clothed in fallen stars. oh the morning, to tiptoe the lawn, to kneel and grab the paper. he’s a mystic addict, to crumble the cigar, a mile into her eyes; the diamonds shimmer, to offset uneasiness, to know the unreasoned night; in which are wounds, unburied wounds, sprawled upon the surface.

the tornadoes, temperaments—the terrifying torments, to touch the terror, yearning the torture; oh the souls—unraveled sorely, twirling through sullen joys; to trace a face, the culture’s silhouette, as chaotic as courting; we see for violence, an unphysical approach, as esoteric as vivid voices. it was ever us, for knitting blankets, as bold as billiards; the earth to vibrate—the millions of kisses, the first man for madness; to enter and move blindly, to wrestle, laugh and love—the awkward silence, to crack a joke, and find our rhythm. it was never mere jest, but rather this love, a maniacal banter, streaming at souls, forever lost, carving through caves.