The taste of pale smoke
Slip-swings into the crowd.
Such worn worlds are not so proud.
But you would always stand out.

The touch is refused,
Brought up into a pregnant pause,
Pierced and inked behind closed doors.
But you could break it back.

The scent of moments
Smudging into the verdigris lane
To fade and mist, blur and grain,
But you turn, and the sunset is dawn –
If you turned back and I’d disappeared,
Would you love me more?

The sight of wallflowers
Pouring down to burn in view
Portrait to claim you never drew.
But you deny into these bonds -
If you could lie into my promise
Would you trust anyone?

The sound is watered down,
Scoring high and sharp and deep
The words written silently, asleep.
But you could dream anything -
If you were waiting and I returned,
Would you really?