Is it love or lack thereof that stays his prying...
Were he to look, it would take not long...

The cruelest thing is losing someone so young.
I could've borne to see you grow old...

Tingles slide down my spine
Pinpricks and soft touches...

Don't mistake me,
I love the feel of a warm fire crackling...

We carve curved lines in the sand with
dead twigs of a sycamore...

Lyrics...

Tapping my ring finger
To the beat of...

I told them if I lose him too, I will die
Because these are the threads that bind me whole...

My heart is a black hole in space, sucking
the bones of love dry...

Do you feel me when I tell you,
I am writing this poem for you...

When you hear your name slip sweetly from her...
Dripping in beads of nectar, her azucar...