You sketch blueprints along my soul;
Of an evanescent rapture.
Our minds are so geometric yet utterly asymmetrical,
A calculated design of logic and foolishness.
Thoughts remain covered in night.
I want to…desperately, strike a match
And watch the flame emit a blush.
I want to see you. The intangible otherness; the ashes.
Because behind the smokescreens,
We are all beggars for love
And thieves of the heart.
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