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Beautiful rhapsodies and remedies that threaten with steady arrows to shoot down the lost butterflies in my stomach. Your gaze pierces me like mornings first light, but I wear my unwavering resolve like a housewife and a black eye. I'm writing to you in candlelight, saying prayers to distant Gods who I know can be nothing other than deaf. Glancing into Heaven's mirror to find again yet no reflection. Everything stands to attention - this silence haunts me and no amount of technology matches the fine art of your form and excruiating bursts of my rapid fire heartbeat. I take the lift down to the ground floor, past the carvings on the wall from days gone past - good times, good times. I stare right into the sun with bright eyes, ignoring all warnings and embracing - no, anticipating the sunset as it scorches the sky in shades unspeakable. Blue is the colour of dreams and you'd do well to remember that, but the irony of the situation is the creeping insomnia, it resembles a high level of allure and wit, far outmatching that of my own. And I just stand there. Powerless for thoughts on what to do.
I'm yours until my heartbeat stops.
