You wrapped your wings against my soul,calmly cascaded tears into eternal waters,where I sat in solitude, waiting ephemerally,for those hours of lost comfort once again,how long ago did sleep become such an end?

The Tuesday Seamstress saidour souls were sewn apart.Delicate embroidered tomorrowstravelled without a start.

I wondered where those roads, in which the world diverged,became the promises of another life, the hilly embankment that touched the horizon intranquil virescent spikes, splattered with hazel lines, that conquered truth and candour.

We swim against―our own sweet moments― lappingthe hours in expanded pleasuresthat swagger away― our wilting sentience―pretending to be― existent―

Who knew those detached wordscould conjure silent vows― flaming―fide et amor ― nothing lasts forever―