Untitled Intangibility

Sat

on the roof of nostalgia,

eyes wide as a dove

paralyzed by the mirage of lasting, reckless, feral young love.

We clawed our names into each others backs with the false promise of redemption caked crimson under our nails.

As we’d drift downwards the sun would slowly rise, the sky ablaze with effervescent , young light.

Mutual destructions’ warmth pressed against me. Cheek to cheek, minds one in the longing for something beyond the daily monotony.