i do not want to dwell into this fantasy.
a wrenching, swollen heart
slowly diving into flames of “never meant to be.”
time creeps into our space, into our ark.
a gush of water drowning what i believe.
tuning veins, broken strings,
my roots can never reach the leaf,
sticking to sad melodies
and all those mushy things.
if only i can count your fingertips,
play with them like piano keys,
our hands will never rip,
glued together like honey and bees.
your back against my shoulder blades
and your finger shall twirl my hair braid.
when all i can see is solitude,
confined to me and you,
whispering claims of “never meant to be.”
which is what i believe.