Some silent spell
The warmth of being close offering a shelter from the wind
I am caught between the paragraphs of your story
And tangled between the words of your song.
Whispered without word under breath
If one didn’t know they’d think it was merely a sigh,
But that evacuation of breath I interpret
As being the secret to the riddle unknown.
Serenity, as precious as golden fragments
We experience just from the act of sitting still
But the fingertip’s brush against skin is the pen to the parchment
As this message endures past the hustle of the years.
We are all given that beating heart and the warming breath
The alchemy of finding a cadence with another is the problem unsolvable.
But when those tempos meet and the rhythm begins
A distilled simplicity in beauty is allowed to thrive.
What better way to fend off the wards of the shadows
Than igniting a spark between lovers?
What better way to warm the chill than creating the fire of your own?
Inevitable friction between crossing two souls.
In order to live we must experience ourselves as only we are capable.
The language is antiquated and bizarre,
But when the message is received from the antennae awaiting
Bridges are crossed and tides recede.
I sip your sin as a fine wine and inhale your poison as wildflower blooms
To live is to die, and to die from exposure
Is the exclamation point at the end of the sentence of life.
Death by beauty, life by the knowledge of death.
Find your poison and let it kill you sweetly.