Shine a ray on me and i shall be a prism of colors.
Like water of a shallow surface I am clear yet full of vitality.
Zest, spice.
My tongue can burn.
Sweet and soft.
My lips can heal.
What is the big deal of numbers and keeping score?
I don't care of how many, i don't care of how much,
I care of being.
This being is beating for a chance.
This being pumps the blood of desire and feeling and tasting and squeezing every drop.
This being is pounding for touch.
What is to be done?
Where else is there to be?
Near,
Far,
of you.
Gone,
Here,
with you.
The wait is a ticking bomb.
Yes.
Tick-tock-tick-tock.
When will the last tick be heard?
Where will it catch us, burning and melting in each others skin.
Prism of shades.
Crystal of light.
Break me down,
into pieces of you.
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