Dark Poetry ~ Eye Windows

Hands char my skin.
Desires fuse to this flesh.
Reality’s finite possibilities.
Render those heated moments eternal.

Until then,
handle time with care.
Disregard mortality’s stare.

Heart aches for touch.
Soul begs for eye windows.

Nostrils yearn,
for the smell of your skin.

Fingers need sensation of hair.

Will you soon dwell in my heart,
or shall we both grow old and die apart?

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