Thursday, March 29, 2012

The Untouchable

Tagged to a faceless name, hooked before I had a chance to make her up. Her eyes swallowed by flames, the water that cools, washes away, but never drowns. But in her I am sinking. Like a tsunami, it comes at the wrong time. And where I was standing firm, the debris of forgotten ego and childish charm drifts around me. Like gripping at the sky, my palms laced with her scent but never her heart. A heart on the shelf in another's room. And now the colour of my sights have been stolen away, brought back with every tide led by the upturned corner of her lips. I watch her being carried away by a former wave and from my point on a surrounded rock, I can only pray for a bigger moon. And so here I am, waiting to be resubmerged. Waiting. Always waiting.