I’ve been to far off places,
Not one of them were as queer as you.
You’re like a strategy dug so deep,
I sense sadness when I hold you
Melancholy, at the rim of your throat;
Like a place I’ve not known.
The words pouring out of your mouth When you speak,
How you call my name,
As pleasant as a melody.
At 3 am.
The creeks of your body tell me stories,
Of war and ruins;
Of love and peace.
Like Light and grief,
And dark happiness that’s clinging onto your lips.
The madness that’s growing on you;
When you see sunsets each time,
With the sea rushing on your feet.
How you feel the wind crashing on your skin,
And I silently listen to your heart crack;
As you close your eyes,
And hold my hand
I’m entering into the world you own.