& though we drift the silk across our face
Our whisper words are gone without a trace.
The light so cruelly paints our secret room,
The sky so naked past the honest glass...
& you, still lost in forests, dark with jewels,
& I, still drinking drafts from tidal pools.
The lingering mist still blurs the day’s trim grass.
In shades of violet sought the hidden place.
The air was silver with necromancer’s gas.
We saw with fingertips, our senses keen.
The sun unsheathes its blade of wide awake.
The lovelies flee before its ruthless blade.
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