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Just a bit of prose to lighten the mood.



Titleless



Gas masks couldn’t keep your sweet nectar - poison from distilling through my surroundings and seeping past my skin, growing my blood thin as it runs free for you, towards the freedom you so freely display. Mmm, if my lips could just brush past yours – if my fingers could caress your skin and then – then you’d know this electricity. It’s always rippling and tearing at my body, killing the pseudo passion and filling it with something that is as real as it gets. And as my body goes cold my eyes, my lips, my entire being smiles; chilled to the bone but so warm in your embrace. And your words whisper forever like so many others have cooed but you, my love, shall never let me down. With you, I trust my life.



Grave