We wait for each other’s presence;
deciphering the time like a bottle of old essence.
Composing a gentle touch beyond the fragmented moments of such.
The seconds on a clock, slow and almost stop
as we talk under the dying stars
and awaken memories imprisoned on Neptune.
Combining the messages of new,
outdoing all the notes that compose you and me.
Is this real?
Or a twisted fragmentation of physical manipulation.
We kiss into a transfixed osculation,
while our exhalation turns into animation.
Travelling between the layers of consciousness, igniting chemistry,
enabling us to fall into a state of tranquillity.
We collide, like the dark meeting particles of luminosity.
The seconds speed up as reality catches love.