we watched nights unfurl
lost
with no intentions of being found
how dry sorrow can drink the blood!
depraved pilgrimages
d
o
w
n
into clandestine depths
where Devils are beautiful.
never alone in disillusion
rather enamored by reveries
2:42 a.m.
that's when we confessed -
it was July
the hours glimmered.
unexplored corridors
discriminating against reality
"no turnin' back now, man"
grim herald of infatuation
drowning our virtues.
in a crack at making it
we spoke on existentialism
on frayed borders.
the intimacies of druggies
young
in a bed
high
eye to eye
breast to breast -
I miss those nights
"I'm willing to die...
are you...?"