I always pretend to hear whispers of our world, yet my mind always drifts towards that open void, reflecting on kisses that undress the ache of my scars, unfurling sorrows as if silken ribbons. These will never wither, but will be absorbed by you when low moments come to mock.
And as time settles into evening, your shadow will hang itself from my core. And with sighs quivering between my lips – my spirit will wrap itself around warmth of your body. And when you stroke your fingers through my hair – you will feel each aching breath of me.