I tried to keep you near.
Our finger tips pressed and ached together, our grip slowly subsiding.
Along with your scent.
I once believed that soon it shall be.
But the jagged pieces of glass embedded within my mouth erased the beautiful taste with crimson waves.
Your presence filled the day with more hours.
With each passing minute the expiration of our aura waned.
I wanted to keep you inside my piano and make beautiful melodies with you.
Songs such as these compose themselves with ease.
Desire hurts for a lifetime.
Empty arms become cold and filched by the passing world and all of its melancholia.
I’ve tried to film our time within my mind’s eye.
But I only receive mascara-smeared transmissions and lonely, black epilogues.
Shall I defy reality, somber and sour, for an unwritten soliloquy?
If so, I fear the end we may never see.