It begins, as always, with a smile.
Wine. A few laughs. A few lies.
Darkness. Deep as Styx. Fucking degenerates.
Every stolen glance, every crumb of bread.
Through sleeplessness bound. A song unsung.
They leave the way they came. Perfect.
Knuckles white… Clutch. Clinch. Control.
A thought; at least a mile behind (below?)
Falling upwards-- above a rift unspoken.
Sweet melody of time.
Mashed, crushed and finally spat out.
Clutch. Clinch. Control.
So sweet… Clutch. Clinch.
Control.
Through the void, eternal; voices glow in silence.
"How?" They ponder, alone. A soundless flight.
A longing unfolds. A longing untold. Static. "Are you there?"
Seamless. Seedless. A weightless choir.
The shrimp of our love;
pink flesh seared.
Madness, like scorching oil.
A scourge within.
A scourge without.
