kelly separa

she offers a piercing gaze

seconds passed

dozes off again.

i recall none of this. none of this. none of this.

Creased forehead

Raised brows

Uncertain smile

"What changed?" she asks.

Change. Change. Change.

Change is a stubborn phantom—

jester living in the conscious mind.

What exemplary humor he has:

Always did the opposite of what need be.

The fellow isn't fazed of anything.

Presence more pronounced.

Enunciating his intentions—priority.

It is but impossible to contain this growing hostility towards him.

in front of our old closet.

alas, woe was there.

tears. eyes of a child.

reckless one ventured the depths,

As the last string of light bid goodbye 

Shadows raced me back home 

Walkthrough a familiar yet not so familiar road 

You walk right in,

break the cage

and now, The rusty

windpipe of my

chest will never

again not know

You piqued my interest, when I saw you waltz and melt before me.

I reckon you're most susceptible to heat.

Alas, you aren't composed of meat!

Even so, you'll still be my favorite metaphor.

With me you can be of use more.

Grateful to hands-on learning,

I've ventured the parts you find moist.

Disturbingly fascinating as it seems,

how you go down - be one with the ground,

with no particular pace - either fast or slow.

Water works in my mouth. Guzzle every second.

Should I take you out now? Or later this night?

Thanks for the pleasure.

Perhaps, I should wait with ease

and look forward to eating you again,