10:49 p.m.
tuesday eve —
bedroom parlour
***
my fingers were
more icy than
usual. is it
because i fear
for him?
or is it that the
cold is more
harsh today
than most
nights?
well, whatever
it is — the burning
fire that radiated
from his hand
clashed with my
opposite ones
that it hurts to
hold on.
but i did.
i held unto tightly.
too much even.
that i collapsed on
the floor when
he finally made it
to the other side.
his head twisting
to the side. a simper
caught my eyes
across his mouth.
he did not seem
tired nor afraid.
how queer. a hand
startled my mind
that's gawking at
space.
"are you ready?"
oh, i am truly apt
today, child of
sun.
***
YOU ARE READING
Our Vintage Dance on the Phonograph
Poesia"you and - me, we traversed at the eve of the colossal pages of our bedroom balcony." - excerpt there is no other dancing partner i would dance with other than you, my sun. you bring me to places that are wiped out of history - to the gardens of rui...
