You

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Are the abyss from which

despair and gloom shade completely

the last vestiges of holy light.

You

are both moon and night sewn together; as nocturnals are drawn under the marquee of darkness, you lure with quick promises masked as gilded hearts, then

feed me to the dingoes.

Yours,

are the first words I see upon waking and the last melody I read before bed.

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Often, we are

lost floating on the seas of meaningless translations, steering into an unquiet madness. Alas, these are but fleeting transactions kept close for whence

you

are not here.

I feel your breath in the shape of my heart, whispering past an aching spine, as the darkness that follows you briefly flees when

pen is put to paper, and

words on twittering leaves.

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