Infidelity

I'm in that place where
memories conceived
shatter; like butterfly wings,
sleep; this utterly useless
occupation I abhor; thus
appended happiness,
fragile and short-lived.
We're fucking perfect
right here; infinite shades
of violet greys, sapphires
vibrating at lightning pace;
missiles toward our end.
Collectively, we are stronger
alone, standing corrected.

No comments:

Post a Comment