lethe

i like the way
the shadows flirt
with the overmatched
light across your face.

i don't mind
the deafness brought
about by noise (music)
in this little world
we found empty for us
to settle in.

i like the way
we talk with expressions
more than words,
we save sound in case
we need a scream
to cross the span
of this table wedged
between us.

i don't mind
that your arm slithers
around mine,
not committing,
not now,
not yet,
while you distract me
with your lips synching
to noise (music)
from the outside world.

and i raise a hand
to surface from under
this darkness,
a beacon to the sentinels
of the outside world,
i only ask them
for a glass
of what you're having,
and i like the way
the cold glass gently
infects my hand
with its low temperatures,
and i don't mind
the numbness,

then i raise said glass
to my lips and
i like the way
the liquid slithers
down my throat
in a tango of fire and ice,
i don't mind the way
the light falls prey
to the shadows waltzing
across your face,
i don't mind that
you now resemble her,
i like that soon
you will be her.

would you mind to have
your arms slither around
my torso now, i am
overmatched,
it is time
to drown me
in your music (noise),
take me to the shadows,
take me home.


2013.nov.05