They stare deep as the night and dark as the hidden day.
The cats meow with the beat of your heart but no one knows what they say.
You’re corrupted, violated, filthy, betrayed.
Your hair has been touched with the ash of a cigarette,
and your eyes have seen much worse.
You eyes glaze over me, wondering, reflecting none of your emotions.
You’ve disfigured my way of thinking, my second nature.
But as I sit here and stare at your nocturnal face,
so tangible and tacit with covered hidden innocence,
I muse over your vulnerable heart and come to terms with my own:
It beats when yours beats.