Your fingertips tiptoe up my spine,
inviting me to fall under your spell...

Put down your drink, whatever it is, set it aside.
I know you seek comfort now but will you be...

Trust;
the unfolding of wings...

Touring the city
at a quarter to eleven...

I dreamed of you last night,
regrettably...

There is someone my age, your age,
who has pushed forward the date...

My eyes see no rain
but I hear the slow monotone...

Throw words at me...
Don't fret, for I won't rip and snarl at them...

The stigma of your eyes
unnerves me as I fumble...

The seasons bring a multitude of colours
that seem to grow more beautiful with age...

I suppose your phantom will eventually seize me,
whether it may be at the trains of midnight...

I smiled at his pain last night.
A guilt-free indulgence...