If I could hold back my tongue
from the rogue and the bold,
calm my pulsing veins,
I would reach for you
with a moments notice.
Slight of hand
smoke and mirrors,
entrance me to entwine
what truly scares me most.
Keine Angst vor Liebe.
I am not afraid of being alone.
I have twenty twenty in the pitch black,
a pocket watch stuck on 7:02
and a body that could cut glass.
But you grew a tree with a rope
that effloresces in spite of the cold.
This city’s pavement chills at night
leaving pages and pages to unfold.
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