| The distance from her palm to my face May have existed in mere seconds It might have existed in the moments of an alluring chemical Traveling through the senses Like the blood of angels through my veins Maybe a juniper aroma Maybe a faint jasmine fragrance I can't be sure It was always her eyes Showing me mercy Wandering the surface of my skin Exploring shadows and nooks Sensations running down the spine Beaufiful chemical glow eminating from her silouhette Like steam rising from a spring Or the smoke that drags from every cigarette To her lips I swear I heard voices In the mixture of her ghosts and ash I wanted to say How I composed an apocalypse for the world That it was written by the lunar glow of her skin That all miracles are given By the petals of sunflowers and ash But I don't think that she could ever understand And I don't think that I could ever Fall for her again |
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