next1

she's there, smiling. she loves the way he loves her back. i knew that laugh, but not the way the smile lingered. i know the fingers, know the touch, but not the femur. i hope she wouldn't let him touch it neither. a fever that feels it's best when sleepers rest, and knows that i would need it less. so, it stays and waits till eyelids bless the dark, embarking on it's quest. i know this dance, this ice charade. a puppet lifts me from this place. it seems as though i've learned to play, i know better than to let her stay. a place in mind; in mine, the veil is lifted, and i notice that a boat has drifted. it fades away, like faces do, and all that's left is what's in front of you. eyes focused on your worn out shoes, as they stumble through the path you choose. i know this now, and regret nothing. thankful for the cardiac thumping. a step. a new dance. a new succession of notes i could sing. i don't care about them anymore because they're only steps towards nothing. to focus on that would be hopeless, in fact, i would hope it's obvious they've turned themselves back.....and now they hopelessly lack. lift my head to show i'm able, and still strong, and that nothing that happened stopped me from happening. she stopped caring, and gave into her insecurities. they deserve each other. that's ok. a new. almost love. teach, and run. it's ok. a new. love, conditionally. her fear of magick. my fear of her. The Virgo, The Taurus, and Leo (saturn's misguided trio). her spilled head wades in mud bowl's perimeter. i knew it. that's ok. better because of it. much less worse off in the head, and the clairvoyant hope sustains the dent in my bed. and so i need her. i breathe her in, foreshadowing. i live to live, and aim to be. find shade in harmony, let them be. for me, it's next one, next one..