Some things tingle only because
it is our sweetness of touch
that since still the house of cards
shall stay the way as is: still
its structure in mind, oh, still
for memisis too, maybe,
but truely for being way on
tender hooks and one extra
leg of ballet to yet shore
some balance till your sweetness
lyre sweet songs, again, to me;
your stalmart sweet kisses, singe,
thaw to then weld \ re-become,
something still there, as brittle
as a house of cards, in want,
if not, need, equal to breath…
so long away is night time,
and, will, there be one tonight?

larisaZ
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