play. catch.

Capture me. In the cataclysmic chasms of your chestnut stare. Effervescent and elucidate simultaneously, crisp and crumbling across the lines of your fingers. Melt me, with the enrapturing flames engulfing from the bosoms of indifference.

My dyslexia feeds your immortality. The more I steal the defeated glances, the more surreal you become. Beautiful and bare. A god beneath the heavens, vengeful and bitter, and elegant and stubborn. Caressing the earth with a discretion beyond your divinity, bringing forth ejaculations of inspired debauchery. For men to consume, and for you to observe. You create worlds, but never inhabit them. You draw the scene, and cast the curtain.

We touch, yet your preoccupation with the man before us is apparent in the frigid sensation of your palms. Holding but untangling, touching but unrelenting. I catch a glimpse of your eyes. Deep like melted chocolate, sublimating and suffocating, piercing and imploring, welling in its saltine depths.

Then I realized, it was a mirror.



Image from here.