Your embrace is a paragon of false presence. No time I do not hope it won't glitch. This retches me daily. I indeed loathe this, yet no word my mouth uttered.
Perhaps I believed nothing will ever change. Perhaps I shivered at the thought of you leaving. I chose to live in illusion rather than see grief sojourn in my very own bones.
If this is the sunset I do not want to see, will you shackle me in your arms one last time? So I can at least feel the warmth of my dear thief before my globe tremble and rain a cold glitter.
YOU ARE READING
Letters To Nimbus
Poetry[ a poetry collection about breaking and forgiving. ] He admired her so much that the light she emits blinded his eyes, and all he has vanished to oblivion. A mistake he failed to avoid. She saw him turned into something else; it was mournful. To pr...
