The burning embers of our love blow through the wind to burn our skin.
From where we came only dragons know, yet it was a place of passionate fire.
We had it all until you tore a hole through my heart and I smashed our love to shards.
Now, we stand in the silent darkness waiting for the earthquake to crush what is left of our love and return it all to the dirt.
My chest aches and yours is broken;
still, I wish we hadn’t fucked it all into pieces.
Playing sad tears from the bow of horse hair you wield so well. Strings hear the echoes of your many sorrows, as they become vibrations and sounds, to ripple along your ivory skin. Memories of your lovers flow into the wood to haunt the many players of your violin.
In the beginning, the world spun out of control. A course through hell would see you stand at 20 on the precipice of destiny. The choice you made was harder still, but the journey would be won. As 40 creeps closer, you look to the future with bright eyes and wise lips.
They stand hand in hand looking to the Alps.
Reflective and oddly calm, she says, “Up here the world is crisp and clean. You and I can talk without the madness of society getting in the way…Don’t you love the way the snow sits upon the mountains, yet the sun still shines and it isn’t too cold?”
He pauses for a few moments to breathe in the crisp air, “It’s beautiful for an Autumn day…the light, it’s welcomed here and not despised…I could live in this country…”
She looks to him and smiles, so he adds, “The sun feels different in Australia compared to Switzerland…Perhaps it is weaker?”
She squeezes his hand and he kisses her forehead, as she responds, “Yes…it feels fainter…let’s stay a little longer.”
You stare into the mirror hoping for something different. This is you and you know who you are now. It took the broken pieces of your past to come together, just like this mirror, for you to see clearly. You look into the mirror and say, “Well, a bit of foundation will do.“
Entwine the tree branches of your soul with mine and dance with me in this forest. swirling and twirling around and around we get closer and closer and closer. Soon your branches move within and ignite a lust so swift. the forest sings, your heart beats fast, and the world blurs.
The cliffs tell stories to the sea via the waterfalls, which cascade down in stages. The sea finds the cliff’s stories amusing and interesting, for the cliffs are always so melodramatic and ironic. Sometimes, though, a story really touches the sea. She becomes wild and weird.