Let’s not lock eyes.
And let the mirrors of you be a comfort.
You’re there and here,
Like the flitting lights of carnival nights,
Fireflies dancing, piercing my mind.
I’m here and there,
A sentry to your moonlit apparition.
And while your pink cashmere seems to coalesce with your tears,
I drown in tastings of sweet nectar,
calligraphed with scents of warm cider.
To know the weight of words unspoken,
But not the depth of secrets left unshared.
To know your eyes formed with wine\'s allure,
But resist tossing any cards, keeping pure—
our tacitness…
some form of gluttonous abstinence.