It’s almost twenty-past-four
Yes, the light dances on your eyelids
I’m drawn to the weapon that is your-
You.
And I say, with less than that of hesitation
That you:
You are painted like clouds and roads
You’ve an endless glow that simply grows
Water does dry sweet on the essence you protrude
You are a soft tempo pulsing through being
You see the notes that waltz along your Capriccio
You are an ensemble of pitch-perfect affection
You are the damp breath of wisdom
And you are the dark, crippling alien inside me.
I’ve learnt to love us both as one.
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