Third Says I'm Last

September 4, 2010
An unbalanced recipe waiting for perfection
Strolling randomly on hardened soil, unaware of the unworldly devouring little by little
Inch by inch, and second by second

Habits are concealed in features but revealed in words
Blood-stained hands unnoticed at the lock of stares
The eyes, his eyes
Peaceful archways, the path to the unpolished diamond
A tempting one, enough to walk away with fingerprints left behind

Liquid light brown, shaped in an almond outline hinched by a pinch
Long lashes: an armor
Crystal tears: the weakness
Slowly, one follows the other on fair skin
Stung by the tittle of the provider, I remain

Glancing with sorry eyes as he answers with a soft smile full of judging words that won't emitt

With each day the image behind the one way mirror becomes clearer
Undoubtful of his love, but skeptical of its purity

The possesor is humanly flawed, but that's what perfects him
Always waiting with a warm kiss, and I hopeful that the immitted speech does not falter

It is strange, bizzare almost
Begging limbs beg for action-- violent
A head filled with anger-- pain
Then just a few of his words melt the unwanted
And the hold of strong hands wash it swiftly away

The future is and will remain
Raveled and binded in theories
For now, only the present is certain

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